


Once Upon A Dream

by Unread_Jenny



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: A world where the video game doesn’t exists, AU, Addiction, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams, F/F, F/M, Fluff, HEA, I’m making this my own, M/M, MGiT, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Parallel Universe, Romance, Rules? What Rules?, Slow Burn, Smut, Trauma Survival, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unread_Jenny/pseuds/Unread_Jenny
Summary: How do I describe my dream man? His name is Cullen and he’s literally my dream man. We met in the Fade. In a nutshell he’s my best friend, my hero, my first love, my biggest heart break, and my deepest regret. And I would easily go through all of it again.—Eleanor Moira Cousland Theirin
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Original Character(s), Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sort of following the plot and also pulling them apart and making it my own. I don’t own Dragon Age or it’s intellectual property. But this Cullen Fangirl needs to gush. I’m rusty. Sorry about that ahead of time?

**Prologue**

_I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream  
_ _I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam  
_ _And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem_  
_But if I know you, I know what you'll do  
_ _You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream_

Her voice was dusky yet sweet, ethereal yet tangible as she moved to the words of a song that had long become a favorite of his. A glass-like, clear orb practically floated on the words of her song as it glided over her hands. Deft little fingers and slender arms gracefully led those hands and orb through the intricate dance. Cullen’s eyes followed the movements as the wisp of a girl lost herself in the moment. More than a song, more than a dance, more than a dream, she was everything, she was light.

“This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, Len!” Cullen moved in close, and if it were anyone other than him, she would have felt crowded as his intense gaze followed the orb. But not him. To her, the boy who looked like love’s young dream was more like an extension of herself when she was with him. “Are you sure you’re not a mage?”

A giggle escaped her. “There’s literally no magic where I’m from. It’s physics.” Rolling her eyes skyward, she stopped manipulating the orb and tossed it to him.

Keen reflexes had him catching the sphere with hardly a glance at it. “Physics?” Turning it around in his hands the ball felt heavy and had a smooth, seemingly flawless surface. “That’s your world’s word for science that measures movement, gravity, light, speed and such, right?”

He never ceased to be amazing. The fact that he seemed to always pay attention to everything she said gave her heart wings. A grin spread across her face. “Yep!”

He attempted to roll the ball across his hands and dropped it. Picking it up he held it out to her with a sheepish grin on his face. “Here’s a moment where I feel like a big, clumsy idiot compared to you.” He held the orb out for her to take and snatched it back as she reached for it.

“Shut up.” Unaware of his goal, she stepped closer to him so that she could reach for it again. “My world is just different. That’s all. Who taught me how to climb a tree? You helped your Da around the farm and I can’t even keep a house plant alive. I’m crap at using a bow and arrow, though I’m getting better thanks to you. And let’s not talk about how I can’t even lift your sword.”

He snatched the object away from her reach again this time holding it above his head. “I am pretty amazing, aren’t I?”

This time she didn’t hesitate to step as close as she could so that when she rose to her toes to reach up for the orb she was flush against him as she commented, “I’ve always thought so my handsome Sir Knight.” His face lost its cavalier grin as he lowered the orb, no longer interested in keeping it from her. Her eyes found his darkening gaze as she claimed her prize. But she didn’t grab onto the Orb, but instead wrapped her fingers around his hand.

Swallowing slowly, he allowed the Orb to fall to the ground with a heavy thud and laced his fingers with hers. “You think I’m handsome?”

She wanted to smack that cocky smirk from his lips. She settled for the next best thing when she said, “No.”

His face flushed for a moment as he tried to move away. But the moment he did, a dimple winked at the corner of her pout of a mouth while her hand tightened her hold on him.

“I _know_ you’re handsome.”

His heart was hammering in his chest. He was brave but not so brave as to overstep his boundaries. “If I’m yours, does that make you mine?”

Why did she suddenly feel so out of breath? She wondered as tiny little fireworks went off in her chest. She was trembling as he brought his arms around her. He darted a glance down at her mouth which only added to the free-fall sensation that swooped through her. This is really happening! The word came out on a hitched breath. “Yes.”

His lips were just a breath away from hers as he softly murmured, “Good” before the kiss that would change their world.

**& &&&&&&& Chapter One &&&&&&&**

Cullen’s eyes followed Alistair as he poured what looked like whiskey into two glasses as if nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place. As humiliating as it had been, a rude awakening had been necessary. He’d attempted to attack the one person, imagined or not, who’d meant more to him than any other in his lifetime.

It was quite something to have been forcibly shoved into a chair by the King of Ferelden. Not many could claim that as a good thing. Cullen was the exception. Cullen was a big man, but this served as a reminder of the fact that Alistair had always been bigger and stronger. It was comforting to know that a crown hadn’t changed that. In fact, not much had changed about his friend.

The man in question had his hands clasped behind his back now as he’d downed the liquid in the glass with heroic efficiency. And he was pacing the floor as he spoke. “You know, under normal circumstances, I would be okay with the fact that you’ve always been a private man. But I think I’m owed some sort of explanation for your behavior just now. For the record, this is your friend asking and not a King issuing orders.”

Alistair was not prone to yelling, and this case was no different. He had other ways of communicating the fact that he wasn’t above getting what he asked for by beating it out of them without raising his voice. The difference here was that it was less likely that Leliana would be hiding his body later for having nearly attacked a Nobleman’s daughter. It was an important distinction he supposed.

Cullen took his head out of his hands and raked his fingers through his hair, releasing his carefully tamed mass of curls from their forced containment. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he finally dared to look Alistair in the eyes. The unspoken order to stay where he was put was evident in the steadiness of Alistair’s gaze. “Le...Lady Eleanor and I have…” Cullen cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, we have a history.”

King or not, Alistair had never quite gotten rid of his penchant for rolling his eyes. This was no exception. “I think everyone in that room understood that. And don’t bother telling me you have a complicated history with her because I might be slow sometimes but that one was also obvious.”

“There are so many levels to this that are difficult to wrap my head around. To be honest, she’s literally one of my oldest friends. I can still remember the first time I saw her. When she smiled, it was like feeling the warmest, brightest sunshine everywhere. At that time, we were only two years apart in age, or it seemed that way anyhow since we met in The Fade and…well she’s almost exactly how I remember her…” It had been so long since he’d let himself go there, but the feelings came rushing back as if no time had passed at all. “Have you ever encountered someone so perfectly beautiful that it was painful to look at them, but you didn’t want to look away because every time you did, you felt like you’d lost something? Her fragile beauty…I just knew that my time with her was a rare treasure. She made me feel like I could do anything and be anything I set my mind to.”

The reverence in Cullen’s tone as he let his eyes drift closed was something to behold. Alistair couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his perpetually tormented friend at ease.

“She called me her knight in shining armor.” The corner of Cullen’s mouth ticked upward as his amber eyes snapped open.

Alistair’s comment came out on a groan. “See, this story was a lovely one until you had to go there.” But his eyes danced with the delight of a friend who would likely never let Cullen forget he’d admitted that detail.

“Great, I’m going to regret my honesty, aren’t I?”

Batting his eyelashes, Alister didn’t miss a beat when he added, “Oh I think you can count on it, by all means, continue Sir Knight!” while making himself comfortable at the adjacent chair. Hooking his leg over the arm.

“With all due respect, your Majesty, fuck off.” When Alistair threw his head back and barked out a laugh. It gave Cullen a moment to gather his thoughts. “We discovered, eventually that we weren’t having normal dreams. While the Fade was where we found each other, we weren’t held there against our will. And it was, for us, a bridge between our separate realities. We could bring things in and take things out, we’d lose a shoe or sock that could no longer be found in our own worlds. Skinned knees, sunburns that happened while we were together were there when we woke up, we could keep things we gave each other. One of the last times I saw her I gave her my Templar’s Ring. I wonder if she still has it…”

“I remember! You said you lost it!” Alistair’s eyes widened with realization, connecting the dots. “It was that same morning you woke up with straw in your hair, you told me you snuck out to meet the stable master’s daughter.”

Cullen blushed sheepishly, scratching his jaw. “Well… we _were_ in the stable loft.” 

Out of nowhere, Alistair lost his smile as his gaze grew hard. Though his tone hadn’t changed nor did his posture. In fact, it seemed that he’d caught himself and immediately directed his gaze to the floor to avoid an anticipated confrontation. At first Cullen had no clue what to make of that. To get a rise out of his easily flustered friend he’d spun a tale that painted the event as a more sordid experience than it had been. _Why would that bother him now? Certainly not the obvious boast…unless...oh_ _crap._

“Alistair…” The name was drawn out as Cullen proceeded with extreme caution over the possible discovery of the source of the normally easy-going man’s uncharacteristic reticence. The accusation glittering in Alister’s gaze was enough to make him squirm as if he’d committed the alleged lecherous acts last night. “You have my word as a friend. As thrilling as the experience was at the time, I didn’t… _ruin_ your daughter.”

As the tension drained from his body, Alistair let his head fall backwards taking a moment to scrub his face with his hands. “Is it really that obvious?”

Cullen quirked an eyebrow at his friend. “If you could have set me on fire with your mind, I’d be a pile of ash.”

“I’m not going to deny that may have crossed my mind. At the time, you’d spun quite the tale of debauchery.” Alister’s cheeky grin was back in full force. “I admit I was a little envious…that just got really weird in the current context…How could you besmirch the Stable master’s daughter reputation that way though?” Alistair could switch between thoughts with very little lead up. But Cullen followed, unfortunately.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck as he shook his head. A sheepish half-grin crept across his face as his ears turned red. “Eventually that would be true, and it was obvious that I wasn’t her first. For fuck’s sake, stop glaring at me. It wasn’t the next day. I wouldn’t have been capable of that if I’d still been involved with Eleanor.”

“Sorry…I know I’m not making this easier.” Alistair shook his head and promised himself he would do his best to behave and listen objectively.

“Anyway…not long after that night was the last time I saw her.” It was easy to guess that wasn’t a choice made by Cullen. “To be perfectly honest, I’d never quite grasped the concept of getting so caught up in the moment that a man would go so far as to indulge themselves. Not when doing so would dishonor the woman he loved. But after that night it had become clear that it was no longer a matter of if but rather when we crossed that line.” Cullen drew a shaky breath, as everything he’d thought was long dead came alive within him. He also knew that if he so much as looked at Alistair, he wouldn’t be capable of continuing the story. And it was something that needed to be told.

“I gave her my ring to show her how I felt without doing something we’d have both regretted. And I needed to give myself time to consider the ramifications of going… _there_. As much as she and I were hoping otherwise, the possibility of being together in a real sense was unlikely. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. I needed help sorting it out, so I confessed everything to the Knight Captain. You can imagine what the reaction was.”

Yes, Alistair really could. So many things finally made sense. “That night Aeden and I found you at Kinloch…You were going on about a girl you could never have. The one the Desire Demon used to tempt and torture you…it was Eleanor.”

It wasn’t a question. The answer was in his friend’s eyes. And it was likely that the version of the story Cullen gave him not long after that was highly edited. And even that was something out of Alistair’s worst nightmare. _Poor Bastard._

**Redcliffe Castle roughly half an hour prior…**

Dorian wearily staggered out of the suite that King Alistair was using while in residence at Redcliffe Castle into the private sitting room. The sheer number of Ferelden’s nobility in residence this night was impressive. And had this been anywhere other than Ferelden, this would have been an uncomfortable realization of just how dreadful he must look. Adjacent to the King there was Arl Teagan, who was finally given a moment’s rest in the reclaiming of his home following the Tevinter occupation. The level of trust he’d been afforded in spite of the that was not lost on the swarthy mage. In fact, the Arl had been nothing but gracious.

With them was an extremely uncomfortable albeit ruggedly handsome Commander Cullen, and equally twitchy Lady Cassandra along with their angel-faced spymaster. Leliana was all too happily chatting away with the three titled men as if they were life-long friends. Ever vigilant, the Templar was paying the banter little attention and it was likely Lady Cassandra was managing her energies in a similar manner. Fergus Cousland, the older brother to the Hero of Ferelden, was a bit of an enigma.

However, Dorian could hardly blame the man based on the information given by the younger brother. As far as Tyrn Cousland knew, everyone he’d ever loved had been taken from him during the Fifth Blight. He admired the man for his ability to hold polite conversation with a level of polish that was unheard of amongst this rugged country’s population, noble or not.

But all conversation ceased as those gathered became aware of Dorian’s entrance. “Congratulations, Tyrn Cousland, it’s a girl.” The mage made every attempt to be his usually energetic self with his pronouncement.

Tyrn Cousland’s brows drew together in confusion. “A girl? I thought…are you certain?”

Dorian tapped his finger on his chin pensively. “Well, I didn’t specifically check. It’s a bit rude, you know, since we’ve just met. She’s a female, an uncommonly lovely one I might add, though younger than I had expected based on prior information. There wasn’t exactly a group of people to choose from on the way through from the other side of the fade so I assume this must be the one.” Dorian said reassuringly.

“Dorian, if you don’t get off your feet, so help me I’ll have Commander Cullen compel you do so.” A pale and weak second mage emerged.

“No, you won’t, silly boy, you’re not that cruel. You do realize that you’re in no position to cast judgement in this moment all mighty Herald of Andraste or not.”

Max did his best to dismiss the barb, though the truth was obvious. “She came with instructions.” He handed three, odd-looking, large, yellow envelopes with the most curious bendy metal fastener in place of a seal to hold them shut to Alistair, Leliana and Fergus, respectively. His gaze remained fixed on the reticent Tyrn. “Aedan specifically told me to tell you not to be a gloomy arse to her.”

For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, and the crinkle of paper as pages were flipped over. The king finished first and glanced at his companions. The Tyrn’s eyes met his king’s gaze with an unwavering look of understanding in them before they both turned speculative looks at Commander Cullen.

“Aedan’s alive?” The accusation that erupted from Leliana was the first to break the tension. She had to swallow so as not to unleash her anger at her king though it was more anger at her friend Alistair that was fully understandable. “And you and Fergus knew? You didn’t trust me to keep a secret?”

“Wait, the Hero of Ferelden is alive?” Cullen blinked, “How is that even possible?”

Fergus spoke then, “I’m sorry Leliana, I wanted to tell you. But I didn’t think it would matter in the long run. As far as Ferelden was concerned, he was dead. He wanted you to have a life.”

The beautiful bard narrowed her eyes at him in such a way that Fergus knew that the conversation was far from over. Her need for answers took the forefront. “Why go to the other side of the fade?”

“To protect her.” Alistair explained before he said more, he made eye contact with every single person there. “Before I say anything more, this conversation never happened, are we clear? You’re all here because we either needed you or trusted you. And I will not hesitate to have you executed for putting that girl in danger, understood?”

“I’m assuming I fall under the first category.” Dorian smirked, “My lips are sealed, Your Majesty. If for no other reason, you can trust that I mean to undo what my former Master has done.”

Alistair’s eyes focused from person to person to get everyone’s agreement before continuing. “Before she was conceived there was a vision of the possible future that was a result of what we now know as this Elder One’s rise to power. In that vision, there was one who could defeat him should the unthinkable happen. This child would be the last line of defense to save Thedas. The vision didn’t originally involve you, Herald. It’s good that you are the visible one. This Elder One, if he finds her, there’s no telling what he’ll do to her. And Thedas is surely doomed.”

“The baby that Aedan went beyond the Fade to safely raise away from detection is the one in the vision. It was easy to allow everyone to assume that since the vision involved the line of succession to Ferelden’s throne that the baby was a boy.”

“Easy for a man to assume.” Cassandra pointedly eyed the King.

“No offense meant, Seeker.” Alistair’s ears reddened, “And that assumption might just be a blessing in disguise.”

Leliana tapped her lip in thought. “If we don’t try to correct that assumption, this Elder One would be looking for a young man. And it might be easy to assume that Max is the young man in the vision. He’s roughly the same age...Brilliant!”

“Precisely.” Alistair was chuffed at the unspoken compliment from the Spymaster.

Fergus finally spoke. “About that, just so everyone is on the same page, the official story is that her mother chose to raise her away from Ferelden during the blight. When her mother died, the Chantry took her in. I’ve only recently been made aware of the fact that I’d fathered a child. And most of that is true in some fashion.” The handsome Tyrn shifted uncomfortably. Leliana’s attention was on him while he spoke. Sister Nightingale was a tough nut to crack.

Following his entire family’s death, she admitted that Aedan made her promise to look after him in the event that he didn’t live through the battle with the Archdemon. Bard or not, the woman still had a couple of tells. But only someone who was paying close attention could have noticed the tiny line that appeared between her brows. If had so much as blinked, he would have missed it.

It had been around the start of the Mage Rebellion when Alistair had confessed to knowing that Aedan hadn’t died, where he’d gone and why. Fergus had forgiven his King fairly soon after, but it had taken many months to forgive his friend for not trusting him. Then Alistair trusted him with Grey Warden secrets about their life expectancy and his odds of producing an heir.

Alistair had to name a successor. Neither one of them was getting younger, and the Tyrn had no intention of replacing his family that Howe had taken from him through his treachery. That served as a reminder that his friend had played a big part in righting that particular wrong inasmuch as it could be.

Dorian smirked, “Yes, I suppose that ‘I arrived via ancient Tevinter ritual’ does sound suspicious.”

Having heard quite enough of the masculine circle jerk of egos, Cassandra snappishly weighed in, “You speak of this poor girl as if she were a thing. I’m assuming someone knows her name?”

“It’s Eleanor.” All eyes in the room were drawn to the source of the dusky voice. The young woman attached to the voice had her hand on the door frame, her small frame held rigid as her luminous, brown eyes took in the scene before her.

Was there an easy way to describe being thrust into a reality that, for the most part, existed simultaneously with the one she left? Nothing was familiar until her gaze found him. She let out a small gasp of surprise as her heart bounced a few times in her chest.

“Cullen?”

The boy in her dreams was clearly no longer a boy. The buck skin breeches he wore fit his muscular thighs and narrow hips like a glove and the white, linen shirt draped over this powerful warrior that had an older version of Cullen’s face with the same, soulful amber eyes. Love, pain, and panic fought for dominance in the maelstrom of emotions battering her. One thing was abundantly clear, she hadn’t gotten over him, not by a long shot.

"Len!” Cullen had some surreal moments in his life. But this one topped all of them combined. “How…” She had an unmistakable ethereal beauty that made it quite easy to convince himself that she wasn’t real, just as the Knight Commander claimed. His dreams had not done this woman before him justice. It was if the otherworldly girl was made perfect as a woman who was sent to tempt him yet again… _The things they made me do…_

Panic rose within him. “Stay back foul creature!” Cullen reached for his sword and realized that he was unarmed.

Alistair realized what his friend was about to do and tried to shout a warning to the Mages in the room. Knowing full well that he was about witness Cullen do the unthinkable to Eleanor. No one in the room really knew Dorian well enough to guess that he’d place himself between the former Templar and his unfortunate target.

It was Seeker Cassandra that literally stole Cullen’s power to do anything before he unleashed hell on anyone.

The King of Ferelden himself, who was the only one in the room physically larger than Cullen, ordered him with a word and a hard stare to leave the room with him.

Len’s mind was racing as the joy of seeing the most beautiful boy she’d ever known evaporate into the shocking scene that had just taken place. Frozen in shock, her eyes followed Cullen and the man who ordered him to leave made a hasty exit from the room. It was one thing for her to hear the story about how Uncle Aedan had first met Cullen. But haunted look in Cullen’s eyes told her he was reliving the horror as if he were still in the middle of it, it was worse than she was told it was, and she had been the trigger again.

The realization that the damage that had been done to him was raw, was real and had changed him sliced into her. Hot and angry, it burned within her and she made no effort to shield herself from the punishment of it. Her eyes fluttered closed to give her a moment to process the information. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she endured the unseen wound. “I’m so sorry.”

While everyone else was still focused on Cullen, Dorian had been watching Eleanor and wasn’t sure what to make of the startling shift in the energy immediately surrounding her. And since Max had not seemed to notice, he could only conclude that his proximity to her had something to do with his ability to sense it. The one thing that he did know was that whether she knew it, she was attempting to take Cullen’s pain from him, and it was physically hurting her as blood trickled from her nose. Hastily he wiped it away before anyone else noticed and did the only thing he could think of to stop her.

He caught her as oblivion took hold. That grabbed everyone’s attention. “Poor little halla, I fear this was just too much for her. Rest is the best thing for her.”


	2. Connected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More clues and also more confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, the Kudos and the comments! I just hope people enjoy!

> “I needed help sorting it out, so I confessed everything to the Knight Captain. You can imagine what the reaction was.”
> 
> Yes, Alistair really could. So many things finally made sense. “That night Aeden and I found you at Kinloch…You were going on about a girl you could never have. The one the Desire Demon used to tempt and torture you…it was Eleanor.”
> 
> It wasn’t a question. The answer was in his friend’s eyes. And it was likely that the version of the story Cullen gave him not long after that was highly edited. And even that was something out of Alistair’s worst nightmare. Poor Bastard.”

Leliana, Cassandra, and Teagan joined them at this point, saving Cullen from having to answer the question the King had asked. Though in truth, there was no way that Alistair would have pressed him for more than he was willing to give since he’d gotten the answers to the first few questions. Cassandra’s shrewd gaze was the only one that looked to Cullen rather than the king in that moment.

Alistair’s eyes implored Leliana, “How is she?”

Leliana’s voice rang with disappointment. “Asleep. Fergus is with her.” Cullen wished he hadn’t glanced up to see the accusation in the Spymaster’s eyes as she added, “She was obviously shocked and refused to do anything until she knew Cullen was alright. Dorian gave her a sleeping tonic so that she gets the rest she needs.”

Cullen scrubbed his face with his hand and cast his gaze on the ceiling as he slumped backwards on the sofa. _Wonderful…As if it wasn’t bad enough that my adolescent self slightly ravished a princess, called said princess a demon and attacked her, I can add abandonment to the list of my crimes._

Alistair sighed, “Don’t be so hard on him, Leliana, there’s more to the story than you know.”

“Other than the fact that she’s not Fergus Cousland’s daughter?”

“Am I that terrible at lying?”

“Actually, no.” Leliana sardonic smile spread across her face. “She looks just like a pretty version of you, Alistair, with darker hair and eyes. If you want that bit to remain a secret, it’s best you’re not seen standing next to her.”

Teagan’s brows shot upward. “How is that possible?”

Alistair cast a sidelong glance at his friend, “Well you see, when a man and a woman…”

Cullen groaned unable to stop the humor that played at the corner of his lips, “You would joke at a time like this.”

Alistair’s brows rose. “How else would you wish me to manage the fact that I’ve been deprived of the chance of seeing my only daughter grow up, and now that I’ve met her, I can’t tell her who I am?”

Cullen sighed, “Point made, I’m sorry. I’m acting like this is about me when I should be more concerned about you.”

Alistair’s smile was a little too smug, “Oh, it’s going to be about you soon enough. Eleanor needs a guardian. And I’d hoped that would be you.”

To Cullen, that sounded exactly like the worst idea anyone’s ever had. “With all due respect, Alistair, have you lost your mind? You saw what I almost did to her.” Cullen stood gesturing widely towards the direction of the room they previously left. “Why in Thedas would you trust me with your daughter after…everything?”

“Do you have plans for a second attempt to Smite her?” The King felt like he was finally getting somewhere with Cullen since the usually stiff warrior and soldier had finally called him by his name.

“Of course not! But why me? You got an earful of the reasons why this would be a terrible idea. I would think that you’d prefer I stay well away from her.”

“So are you just planning to avoid her then?” Alistair wasn’t having any of it. “Has it occurred to you that you happen to be the only thing in all of Thedas that’s familiar to her? It matters very little that she’s my blood and the Tyrn will care for her as Aedan did when she doesn’t know either of us from a pound of cheese. Do you really want me to assign someone else?”

When Cullen’s jaw tightened as he glared into his glass. “No.”

***************

_“Len?” The familiar voice sounded like she was hearing it from underwater. “Len? Can you hear me?”_

_Why did it seem impossible to open her eyes? There was a noise...it was like fireworks...and then it burned so badly. Her eyes met her Uncle’s. Chaos as he called her name.  
  
“Len?” It was a desperate plea. One she was too foggy to understand exactly why. Her favorite boy’s beautiful face came into focus. Deep-set eyes frantically searched her own face as a tear wet the hand he was clutching in both of his. “Please don’t leave me!”  
  
His heartbreak was suddenly hers, though she dared not give it recognition. Boys didn’t like to be seen this way. Especially one as fierce _and proud as her _aspiring Templar. “Why would I do something so dumb?”_

_“Len?” Dropping her hand to the bed she was lying on, he hastily scrubbed his face with both hands as if he was tired. When she didn’t comment on it, apprehension gave way to relief as he took her hand and leaned over her. “Thank the Maker you’re alive! What happened?”_

_“I…” Searching her mind for the answer, she didn’t have a good one. “I’m not sure.” Scanning the room, she saw the resin bin attached to the opposite wall. “Behind you, see that clip-board? It might say on there.”_

_Cullen rose and groaned, working the stiffness out of his lanky body. His shirt rode up a bit, exposing the sharply defined 6 pack and a sprinkling of dark-blonde hair surrounding his belly button and disappearing into his pants. ‘Oh My Lord! He has a treasure trail! Has it been that long?’ If he’d noticed her blushing, he didn’t remark upon it as he retrieved the object.  
Scanning it he looked for the type of information she was looking for. What’s Caucasian?”_

_“It means I have light skin. Seriously, Cullen!”_

_“I’m getting to it. There’s a lot here. Your people like to write everything down, don’t they? Attending physician D. Pavus…”_

_“This world’s version of a healer.”_

_He grunted with a nod of understanding. His eyes scanned it and he slowly read, “Gunshot injury to the upper left chest region.”_

_The free-fall effect of his slowly read words wasn’t surprising. “I remember...”_

_Replacing the chart, Cullen moved back to her side. “What’s a gun? Is that like a crossbow?”_

_“No…though it is a ranged weapon.”_

_“The only reason to injure someone in the chest is if you intend to kill them.” Cullen’s scowl was dark and his voice more like a menacing growl. If she eve_ r _had a difficult time picturing her friend as someone who could be dangerous, it just became a lot easier._  
  


“You were there and you never thought to tell me until now?” 

Cullen’s dark glare had Dorian put his hands up as if in surrender. “Well, it’s not as if I was in any position to assume you would trust me, Commander. What would you do with that sort of information until now anyway, hmm?”

“Does she know?” Cullen’s irritation was obvious.

“Your little Dirt girl is a bright one, she recognized me straight away.” 

“That world is called Earth, not _dirt_.”

“Yes! That’s right! Your _Earth_ girl...”

Cullen groused, “She’s not _my_ Earth girl.”

Dorian waved his hand. “Yes-yes, she’s a Fereldan. The whole reason I was sent to go get her. I’m glad she’s from here rather than a place so un-cleverly named after soil. It could have been worse I suppose, that world could have been named after its fertilizer. But I knew I’d eventually find at least one redeeming quality about your County.” 

“No…” Cullen’s irritation was evident. “She’s not _mine_. I lost that privilege long ago.” 

The Tevinter crossed his arms and stared at the reticent ex-templar. Cullen couldn’t help but feel he was being examined for lack of a better term. Finally, Dorian shook his head sadly. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“I promised her the world and abandoned her. That was the last time I saw her.”

Dorian shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. It was the last time you wanted to see her, shortly after you gave her your ring, promised her forever and never came back.”

Cullen’s voice flattened. “Thank you so much for the recap. I feel much better now. But if I had seen her after that I think I would remember.” Cullen froze. _Please no..._

“It was a time you actively try to forget.” 

Cullen’s stomach dropped, “No!”

“Oh don’t look like that. I know what you went through. You’re a better man than you give yourself credit for, you know? Though the demon was the one who _wouldn’t_ leave you. You had what it took to protect Lady Eleanor no matter what it cost you to do so when you harshly sent her away. She had a broken heart, but that was the worst of it for her. She finally told Aedan about you. I suspect he gave her what he knew of the story as he’d been there to rescue you. She’s obviously forgiven you.”

It confused Cullen to no end that Dorian was being so nice to him. “You can’t know that for sure.” 

“You know, this is the longest I’ve ever seen you without a frown on your face. Granted, now it’s replaced with an expression of perpetual surprise. But it suits you.” Dorian’s smile spread across his face again, but his eyes told Cullen that he was being sincere rather than his typical cavalier self. “Do you know why I was there at the time she was in that…what was it called again?”

“House…petal.” Cullen blinked trying to remember. 

“Barbaric place, really.” Dorian waved that information away. “I was there to save her life. You have no idea how close we all came to losing her to a senseless act of violence in a world shockingly devoid of Magic.“

Cullen’s startled eyes met Dorian’s before he added. “She was dead for 5 minutes.”

“I…felt it. Well I felt something. I suddenly felt faint and then I was in the fade. Scared the hell out of whoever it was who was with me at the time. It might have been the First Enchanter actually.”

“I can nearly picture Irving’s face.” Dorian grinned. “For some reason you two are connected. She felt your pain last night. That’s the reason she literally tried to take it from you.”

Cullen’s eyes widened. “Wait what? She’s not…”

“She’s not a mage, no. Don’t look so horrified! It’s not that bad, you know? She’s also not a demon, her body is hers. But she’s not just _some girl_ either, and she’s completely unaware of it. How marvelous is that? And if you think she’s not, in fact _yours_ …You might want know that while it’s been about a decade for you, it’s only been a couple of years to her. And as far as Aedan knew, there’s been no one else. And she’s still wearing your ring. You can see for yourself next time you look in on her.”


	3. Well...shit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor meets Fergus, the King and finally has a chance to see Cullen. Life is just a series of awkward conversations and discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Dragon Age, or the Characters except Eleanor. I made her up so I get to keep her. I'm taking tons of liberties with everyone's storyline and the events that took place in Thedas. Also, I messed with the timeline a bit because I needed that for this to work out properly. They're all so complex to me and keep bossing me around these chapters. I hope the result makes people smile. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The thing about siege-proof, stone castles is that any typical building feature that would allow people access into the building is essentially left out of the structural design. So, things like windows are limited in location, number and size. That means, that where they do exist, they are built for rooms on the upper levels, so they’re taller than any human could possibly build and/or transport to the site of a battle should an attack on the castle take place. And even then, arrow slits and balconies with reinforced doors face a courtyard that is accessible if you can manage to bust through two gates and survive a fight where you’re literally surrounded by the Castle Guard on the battlements. Thus, the metaphor about shooting fish in a barrel is relevant and used in Thedas. 

This castle design is not much different than the way things were done in Medieval Europe. Magic complicates things here because there are people who can be small and harder to detect. And others who can be smaller, harder to detect _and_ fly. And let's not forget the evilest of all evils in Thedas that can erupt from underground. However, if there was an army of shape-shifting mages or a hoard of darkspawn attacking the castle, no one is blaming the Castle Architect. 

Eleanor woke up after three days of restorative oblivion. She did have the luxury of arrow slits. However, the walls are so thick, there’s little chance for natural light to filter in. This left her completely unaware of the time of day. What the room lacked for in windows, it made up for it in sheer size alone. She was clearly in the area where _important guests_ were accommodated. The mattress was down filled instead of straw on the lake-sized, four poster bed with curtains that could be shut for decency reasons if needed. There were so many pillows, and the bedding so fine that the effect was quite sumptuous. 

Uncle Aedan had said that Ferelden was known for “being built to last.” Luxuries were typically kept to things one could use, only nicer. Extravagance was something the Orlesians did and Fereldans considered it somewhat Vulgar. The floor had a plush rug. There was a fireplace on the opposite wall that was crackling but not roaring. There was a small sitting area arranged for receiving close friends or family in private. A dressing table and large oval mirror stood near a corner that had a carved wooden screen, likely for bathing etc. Everything was well kept and the room was spotless. The scent of candle wax, wood smoke and something vaguely lemony, _furniture polish?_ hung in the air. 

There was an oil lamp on the night table beside her casting a welcoming glow, and a man seated in a chair that didn’t match the décor. _Likely someone brought it in for him?_

His head was bent over a book. This had to be Aeden’s brother. They had the same thick, wavy hair, though Fergus Cousland had a generous amount of sliver streaking through his. The discovery that he was one of those people that silently mouthed the words as he read made her immediately like him. His face was expressive with the few lines around his eyes and framing his mouth. This was the man that she’d been wondering about her entire life and she didn’t know what to say to him. Then, as if he could sense her watching him, his sharp gaze found hers before he marked his page, closed it with deliberate movements before he set it aside. He had the eyes of a man who could make you feel called out on all your future bullshit before it happened. His only tell that his movement was a stalling tactic was the fact that rubbed his hand over his mouth to cover the fact that he swallowed slowly. 

Then he stood, and approached the bed, sitting on the edge. “Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be necessary to know how one properly introduces one’s self to their own child just shy of two decades after she was born.” His eyes smiled and in that moment, he didn't try to hide his discomfort. 

She couldn’t help but chuckle, though her voice was rough from disuse. He motioned to a servant in the far corner of the room that she didn’t know was there. Without a single word, a glass of water was poured and carried to Fergus before the girl gave a shy bow before attempting to fade into the background again. However, her father thanked her softly, which apparently startled the girl. 

He proceeded to set the glass on the side table before offering her his one hand and sliding his other arm behind her to help her sit up. He smelled nice, like cedar wood, and bergamot. Shifting pillows and flipping the one immediately against her to the cool side. Apparently being a dad was like riding a bike. She knew Fergus once had a wife and son, before she was born. His fatherly instincts hadn’t left him. When he helped her with the glass, he made sure she didn’t need help. The act of being a father seemed to put him at ease.

“Thank you.” She liked this man she didn't know. There was a lot about him that reminded her of his brother. He had a calm demeanor that was unlike Aeden, who perpetually needed to be doing something.

Her eyes reminded him of a startled halla, innocent, beautiful, alert. Fergus had to admit that when Alistair had first approached him, he wasn’t sure he was the right man for this role he would play. It felt disrespectful to the family that had been taken from him. But what was the alternative? Aeden would watch the girl he raised from infancy die if they didn’t bring her back to Thedas. And the very reason his brother had braved the unknown was to keep her safe. Because the threat here in Thedas remained. They didn’t have time to find someone else to help Alistair hide her in plain sight that could be trusted. 

He sighed. This woman, who was barely more than a child, had so much resting on her shoulders. He wondered how much she was aware of that. She was separated from the man who raised her, his brother. Those dark eyes were wandering around the room with curiosity and amazement. But when she had nothing to focus on, she looked lost. He mentally shamed himself over his own reluctance to do what needed to be done. Emotional risk meant nothing if their world was destroyed. 

Instead, he could take the opportunity to get to know her, and through the woman she was, he’d learn about the man his younger brother had become. And for a while, he might forget he was sad and lonely. 

When she'd finished the glass and he took it from her, setting it aside. “Is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry? More water perhaps?” Even after the water, her voice had a little bit of a raspy edge to it. _Small yet mighty._

Slender hands folded in her lap for lack of something better to do as a gentle smile played at her lips. “Maybe some more water a little bit later, thank you.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders shrouded in the curtain of dark hair that surrounded her. “It’s strange, I don’t know what to say either. I admit that I’ve spent my entire life wishing for an opportunity just like this. And now I’m at a complete loss because I don’t know where to begin.” Eleanor worried her lip. 

It was his job to figure it out, or so Fergus thought. When all else failed, he took a moment to wonder what her _real_ father might do in his place. When it came to him, he shook his head as mischief glittered in his eyes. "We could trade embarrassing stories about Aeden.” 

A little while later, peals of laughter could be heard pouring into the hallway as Alistair and Cullen approached Eleanor’s chambers. "So he comes out of the kitchen with the bucket stuck to his head holding a ladle as he crashed straight into Father screaming, 'Don't let them cut my head off!'" 

Alistair’s grin spread across his face as he caught Cullen’s arm. Before anyone was alerted to their presence, he tapped his index finger to his lips. 

"Then what happened?" Eleanor's eyes were huge. 

"Well, it didn't take long for Father to figure out who convinced him to put the bucket on his head in the first place and also who scared him into thinking that removing his head was the only way to get the bucket off of course. Father was actually able to pull one of the pieces free, allowing enough space to get his ears free. I thought for sure I was going to get a good hiding over that one. I was marched out to the woodcutter's shed and spent the next week cutting wood for the kitchens." 

"It's my turn isn't it?" She chewed her lip for a moment before she brightened, “Okay, I have one that’s not about _him_ exactly, but of something I did that tested his patience as a single parent. I was six years old. We were living in France at the time.” 

Fergus thought for a moment, "France, that’s the place that’s like Orlais?” 

“Oui!” She chirped. “We went to Catholic Mass every morning at the school there.” The moment her father looked lost she winced, "Let me back up a bit. You’re going to get more unuseful Earth information."

Fergus’s eyes crinkled at the corners and his voice was gentle, “Not useless. Not if it means I get to know you better.” 

She felt her cheeks heat up but smiled when her father just chuckled. “The Catholic Church to Earth is like the Andrastean Chantry is to Thedas. While it differs in its history, the doctrine has some similarities. Uncle Aedan saw to it that I was familiar with both.” That clearly pleased her Father. “Um...Mass is a formal religious ceremony with a lot of set dialogue and rituals.” 

“I see. Sort of like a place to speak the Chant of Light while being led by someone?” 

“Exactly.” Eleanor beamed. “Well, the Priest’s sermon was about how the Bible helps us conquer our enemies. That made sense to me since the Bible is this giant book with all the Church’s teachings and wisdom in it. Well, later in the day, Uncle Aedan got called into the Head Master’s Office because a certain little girl might had taken one of the classroom Bibles and used it to clobber some boy who wouldn’t stop pulling my hair." 

“Maker! You took it literally?” Not only had Fergus started laughing, wiping tears from his eyes, But there was laughter coming from just outside the door.   
  
A voice she hadn’t heard before said, “You know, the thought of Aeden having to deal with something like that is exactly what that cheeky bastard deserves. I do hope you have more of those stories to share later.” 

The impressively strong man who dragged Cullen out of the room the other night, the one who spoke, entered the room shortly before Cullen also appeared. She was glad that the bed she sat in was rather high off the ground because Cullen was tall, but the other man was taller. 

Fergus stood and gave a small bow before gesturing to the man he just bowed to, “Allow me to introduce you to His Majesty, the King.” 

Eleanor's stomach jumped. That was the moment that it all really sank in. _I’m meeting an actual King while sitting in a bed in an actual Castle._ She immediately straightened up and squared her shoulders in as much as she could while in bed. She bowed her head as her father continued, “Sir, my daughter Lady Eleanor Moira Cousland.” 

_That right! I have a title too. Holy crap._

“Your Majesty.” She bowed again. 

Cullen coughed and when she looked up again, she could have sworn that the king was giving her father the side eye. Cullen had clearly been covering a chuckle. 

That's when her dimple appeared. Her father shook his head, “Don’t look at me, blame her...and my brother who put her up to it.” 

When the King sat at the foot of the bed, and cursed under his breath, Eleanor couldn’t stop herself from staring in awe. She would eventually discover that the reluctant king had the sort of face that could do two things with equal ease. One was his shit-eating grin. The other one could nearly roast the skin off your face.

Thankfully, the grin was present in this circumstance as he turned to her. “I’m just wondering where you learned Courtly etiquette, since it couldn’t have been from Aeden.” 

Fergus matched the King’s grin. “Only _you_ would insult my brother while paying my daughter a compliment.” 

"So, let's clear up a couple of things now, shall we?" When Alistair patted her knee under the coverlet he smirked, “When appropriate, call me Uncle Alistair if you please. Being King is a job, one I take seriously, but I really hate the rest of the King stuff.”

Cullen was listening to the conversation while watching her reaction to it. Somehow, Eleanor had a remarkably easy time accepting the “reality” of their time spent in The Fade. The same could not be said about her ability to process being physically in Thedas. He was also acutely aware of the fact that she was actively _not_ looking in his direction. Not that he could really blame her. Cullen was at a loss as to how he was going to even attempt to make things right between them. And if he was honest, he didn’t know what things being _right_ would look like presently. 

Alistair's voice broke into his thoughts when he quipped, “Oh! And here’s my friend, Cullen. Something tells me you already know each other. Though I can’t be sure if you’re old friends or sworn enemies.” It was difficult to miss the fact that Cullen hadn’t taken his eyes off Eleanor since he’d entered the room. Fergus kept glancing between the two and finally sent Alistair a meaningful look. “But I think Fergus and I should clear out so that you can have the really awkward conversation that’s long overdue.” 

Fergus, who hadn’t forgotten how to be a father after all moved to kiss the top of Eleanor’s head. “Don’t let him keep you up too long. Your maids will be here in the morning to assist you with whatever you might need.” 

She just nodded and smiled shyly. “Um... I don’t know what to call you. Aedan referred to you, or well, before I knew you were _you_ , as my Da. But I don’t want to presume...” 

“That’s what we called our father.” _And what Oren called me, once upon a time._ Fergus closed his eyes for a moment to quell the tide of emotions that swept over him. Then he opened them to see the worry written on her sweet face. Gently, he brushed the hair out of her face and allowed himself to remain in the moment and enjoy it without guilt. “If you’re asking for permission to call me Da, you have it, pup.” 

It was difficult for Cullen to hold his own emotions in check, and he’d only heard stories about the betrayal and murder of the Cousland Brothers’ entire family before the Battle of Ostagar. Eleanor had little trouble getting through the thick walls the brooding Tyrn had built around his heart over the years. The truth was right in front of him. She was still the girl he fell in love with years ago and there was no way he was _ever_ going to get over her. 

_What was it that_ _Varric_ _always says? Oh right..._

_**"Well Shit."** _


	4. A Lot to Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another glimpse of Cullen and Eleanor’s time in The Fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a tiny bit of blush-worthy content between a pair of curious teens.

__

_Cullen- Age 17, Eleanor- Age 15_ Location: Ferelden, The Fade

_Cullen’s POV_

_It was as if the sky opened when the rain began to fall in continuous sheets. Cullen had her hand in his as they dashed to the barn ahead of them. Safely inside, they took a moment to catch their breath as the two of them giggled, soaked to the bone. When she suddenly stopped, he turned to see Eleanor frozen in place with her eyes wide._

_“Len?” Cullen reached for his dagger, placing himself physically between her and the unknown threat. As he followed the direction of her gaze, he scanned the shadows for someone hiding in them. “It’s clear, there’s nothing here but the horses.”_

_When her response was for her to grab a handful of his shirt and grip it tightly, he turned around. Replacing his dagger, he pulled her protectively into his arms. She was shaking so hard it nearly shook him. She was terrified of something. As much as he enjoyed holding her like this, he would rather it be for much more pleasant reasons._

_His eyes took in his surroundings. Hay, probably some mice? No. He recalled the moment he discussed how he and his brother Branson were on pest control duty as punishment for having put one in Mia’s bed. That had started a debate as to whether mice were pests or cute little things to keep as pets._

_Spiders? That was a normal thing for a girl to be afraid of, but Len wasn’t easily spooked. When one of the horses made a little snorting noise, she buried her face in his chest. “Is it the horses?”_

_Her response was to nod in as much as she could while she was plastered against him. There was a story there for certain. He glanced about the barn. The alternative to staying here was going out in the rain. And as thunder rolled through, he knew lightening was not far away. The last place he wanted them to be was in an open field. That’s when he spotted the ladder up to the loft._

_The problem was that there was a particularly curious and needy mare that would be less than a few feet away from them when they approached the ladder._ _He had an idea. “Keep your eyes closed. I’ll get us away from the horses alright?”_

_He loosened his hold and led her blindly to the ladder. “Don’t open your eyes until I say it’s alright.”_

_Her response was little more than a squeak. “Ok.”_

_He placed her hands on the side rails of the ladder before he came around to the other side, blocking her view of the horse that had responded the way he’d predicted. He made a mental reminder to bring her an apple later. He was over six feet tall, so she’d be most of the way up before she would see the eager horsey face staring at her. Hopefully that would be enough to compel her to keep going._

_When they’d finally made it to the top, there was fresh hay, a couple of bales and some spread about, two clean horse blankets folded on top of one of the bales, and a perfect view of the storm through the wide open upper level window. “There, how about this?” Cullen said lightly. He didn’t think now was a good time to press her about her obvious fear of horses._

_Glancing around, she finally looked him in the face. “Thank you. I’m sorry about that.”_

_“Everyone is afraid of something.” Cullen offered with a gentle smile._

_“You’re not. Not like that anyways.” Shrugging her narrow shoulders, she gazed out at the rain._

_Cullen came around to the front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders, giving her an affectionate squeeze. “That just means I haven’t yet found it. Undoubtedly, it exists. I’m sure the first time I see a demon I’ll soil my drawers.” He crooked a finger and nudged her chin up so that he could see her face again. He gave her a crooked smile._

_On cue, her dimple winked up at him from the corner of her tempting little mouth. “Promise?”_

_His voice was thicker, deeper when he responded, “I would promise you anything, you know that.” The kiss was tender, and sweet. He loved taking these lingering tastes of her lips. And the way she flattened her small hands against his chest made him feel big and manly. He could kiss her like this forever. But soon after they’d started, his lips encountered her teeth. She was vibrating with barely controlled laughter. It didn’t take a mind reader to know what caused it._

_“Did you just make a promise to crap yourself for me?”_

_For several minutes there was uncontrollable side-splitting laughter. Mia would be horrified by Len’s crude sense of humor. Cullen thought it was one of the things that made her perfect for him. “I’m chivalrous like that.”_

_They were both freezing in their drenched clothing. Cullen was surprised that this was the first he’d realized that her shirt was all but transparent. She was wearing the most peculiar looking breast band underneath. It was like little triangles of fabric that frame them individually, which were also transparent. Once they’d been playmates, equals in every way. In a lot of ways, she’d been like any other guy who was a friend. His awareness of her being female had happened so gradually over time, he couldn’t remember a single instance that called his attention to it._

_Until that moment. Right then, he was fascinated by what he saw._

_“My eyes are up here, Mr. Chivalry.” She crossed her arms tightly in front of herself_

_Flames crept up his face as his startled gaze met eyes that danced with_ _self-consious_ _amusement. “Sorry I ah...” Rubbing the back of his neck awkward he attempted to clear his mind. Any apology or denial seemed like the coward’s way out. With Len, anything but the absolute truth was an insult to her intelligence. “Your breasts are the first ones I’ve ever had the privilege to see...like that. Still, I shouldn’t have kept staring at them. That was disrespectful of me.”_

_Perhaps it had been wishful thinking on his part, but she didn’t appear to be offended. She was also so cold that her lips were turning blue. “S-s-so, this might be an awkward t-time to suggest that we should find some way to get out of our damp clothing b-before we catch our death of cold?”_

_Cullen wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. But her red face was evidence enough to know that making her repeat that would only embarrass her more. Of course, his body would take this opportunity to react in the expected manner. He didn’t trust himself to speak as he abruptly turned away from her, picking up both blankets. One was clean, intact and made of a non-scratchy weave. The other looked as if it had once looked like the first one. It was also clean, but moths had gotten to it. A good half of it was threadbare and full of holes._

_Len’s POV_

_She didn’t know what to make of his quick change in moods. It was unlike him. ‘He must think I’m a slut.’ Eleanor chastised herself. She’d taken his abrupt manner for shock and disappointment. There were very few times she’d wished to end one of these dreams. But the amount of control either of them had over them seemed to follow no true pattern. “Cullen, I’m sorry I offended you. I just...”_

_He wouldn’t look at her when he held his hand up. “Just stop. You didn’t offend me. After my own behavior, I can’t believe you would even think that.”_

_“Then why are you snapping at me? You’re obviously ashamed to look at me.” She hated that she sounded so needy. She didn’t know what was wrong with her lately. Suddenly the idea that she’d upset Cullen made her panic._

_Closing his eyes, he was mouthing something. Probably praying for patience. It was difficult to wait for his response, but she knew well enough that was what he needed from her. She hadn’t realized what he’d been doing up until now. He’d folded the broken side of the second blanket under the thread-bare side and laid it on the hay. He opened his eyes again and shook his head before turning._ _“Sometimes I forget how little you really know about men until something like this.”_

_It was difficult not to be offended by that statement. She planted her hands on her hips and was winding up to fire back at him when he shook his head, “I’m not finished.” It was then that she remembered what had started this and crossed her arms again._

_If his penetrating gaze hadn’t alerted her to the fact that he was dead serious, his voice confirmed it. Something important was being sorted out between them. She closed her mouth and nodded, letting him know she understood. “You’re my best friend, Len. If I ever did something to ruin what we have, it would gut me.” He scrubbed his face with his free hand. “But I owe it to you to make you aware that I notice you the way a man notices a woman.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I just did that. I truly apologize for leaving it hang there. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and hitting that little heart at the bottom. 
> 
> The art is my own.


	5. Honor-Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When old-fashioned values aren’t welcome yet are unavoidable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit NSFW in all the right ways. Thanks for reading!

The King and Tyrn Cousland both looked up expectantly when Leliana quietly followed Max Trevelyan into Arl Teagan’s Study. While the spymaster’s face gave away nothing, Max had little patience for coyness in this matter. “Ambassador Montilyet is already asking us when the wedding is taking place.”

Leliana pushed her hood back and frowned at Max, “They might have gotten away with it had it not already spread through the castle before the kitchen staff was fully awake. I think that everyone’s looking for anything other than the Mage/Templar war and the Breech to talk about. It’s also been a while since there’s been something to gossip about in Redcliffe Castle.”

“Dammit. I really didn’t want to have to do this to her.” Alistair raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s not like this is _Orlais_.”

Only Leliana could so effectively give the King the side eye. “You know better than that. If it were Orlais, it might have been more easily overlooked.”

“I still think we need to get their side of the story before we decide anything for them.” Max’s expression had darkened further, leaving very little of his opinion on the subject of arranged marriages up to the imagination. “She didn’t ask for any of this and she’s been suddenly thrust into the shark infested waters of your damnable Ferelden politics.”

“ _I_ didn’t choose it either!” Alistair’s face turned red. The fact that the King rarely yelled wasn’t lost on the room. The results had the desired effect. “If I didn’t need to make sure that Ferelden was taken care of after I die, I might agree with you. I’d rather not do this. But I need the support of the Landsmeet to establish her legitimacy. We’re not talking about a minor Noble house here. We’re talking about the future Queen of Ferelden. As it is, we can’t even tell her how close she is to the Ferelden throne until the threat to Thedas is eliminated first. This is a shit situation, but it’s also not one I have the luxury of ignoring.”

Max glared but didn’t argue. “So can’t they just get engaged?”

Teagan was the one to speak up just then. “You’re in the middle of a war. Cullen is your Commander. If he dies, she needs to be his widow. If it were otherwise...things might be messy.”

“Well, if you’re going to get sentimental about it…” Max groused. “Okay, since we’re playing Chess apparently, my suggestion is that we make this look planned. If it happens before we leave Redcliffe, it’s more convincing because both the King and the Tyrn are here.”

Fergus was impressed with the younger man’s idea. “That would work, except that Commander Cullen doesn’t have land or a title.” The Tyrn frowned. “Which isn’t entirely a problem but Max is onto something here. I do have some land that I can gift them as a wedding present.”

Alister snapped his fingers. “I’ll Knight him. Honestly, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that before now anyhow. He certainly deserves it after all he’s been through.”

Leliana smiled, “Perfect. I knew I could count on you.”

Alistair considered her for a moment, “Why do I get the impression that you’re enjoying this a little too much?”

“Perhaps I’m just a romantic?” She shrugged. “So, who’s going to tell them?”

_**8 hours earlier…** _

Words can’t always fix what’s broken between two people, especially when words weren’t the thing that went wrong. And when the Tyrn and the King left the two of them alone, all he had to do was look at her, to see the questions in her eyes and the soul-crushing doubt to know that a conversation was not what she needed from him. He’d been frozen, on the edge of what he probably should have done and what he wanted to do in that moment.

“The hardest part was thinking I’d never see you again.” She’d pulled her knees up to her chest protectively and was furiously blinking back tears before he stopped overthinking things.

Pulling his shoes off and climbing over the bed to her, he pulled her into his arms and held her as she cried. It was against his better judgement, but so much had been stolen from them needlessly. He was allowed to care about her. Alistair depended on him to care about her so that he would keep her safe. And he refused to pretend that there was never more to them than what their complicated situation would allow going forward. It was about time he admitted that he needed this as much as she did.

So, for a while he would allow himself to be the man who was once a boy who loved this girl so much that he’d never love anyone else. And he would have to learn to be content with being her friend. After all, it was more than he’d been able to hope for in a very long time. And he would be there to help her navigate life and move on from their childhood fantasies with the security of knowing he’d always treasure her as a friend.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” She rubbed her cheek against the soft linen of his shirt. He smelled like what she imagined the ideal man smelled like.

His chuckle rumbled beneath her as he hugged her just a little more tightly for a moment. “I live here.”

Her head came up. Not at all surprised to find the cheeky smirk on his face. “You’re such a jerk.” She giggled. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” His eyes wandered over her face. “You’re so beautiful, it’s still hard to imagine you’re real.” His eyes grew sad as a shadow fell over his expression. “I…never meant to…you have to know…”

Tenderness filled her as she gently placed a finger to his lips. “Shhh…” She soothed. “It’s alright. I know what happened.” It was her turn to reassure him.

His eyes flickered with panic as his entire body stiffened. _Deep wounds never healed easily._ She shook her head. “Not everything. Only what Aedan knows of it. I’ll never ask you to tell me more than you are willing to. I’m here if you need me. I’m sorry to have caused you so much pain.”

_What the…_ His frown darkened his face. “Don’t you _dare_ blame yourself. Not even for a moment. I will not allow you to own any of that.” His eyes burned fierce in the dim light. “What was done to me…to us…it wasn’t _your_ fault.”

She challenged his hard look with one of her own. “It wasn’t _yours_ either.”

Cullen immediately softened. “Maker! You’re still a tiny little force to be reckoned with, aren’t you?” He gathered her hand in his and kissed it. The gooseflesh that gave her slender arm gave him an unexpected thrill.

“You know it.” A playful grin spread across her face as she stared down at his chest and marveled at the way he filled out his shirt. “We can’t all be big and manly like you. I thought you were fit before but holy cow!”

He turned red and rolled onto his back, refusing to read more into her words than he should. “And covered in battle scars.”

Undeterred, she didn’t hesitate to clamber after him and stare down into his face. “Chicks dig scars. Like that on your lip. How did you get that one?”

“A demon’s claw actually. That’s why it never really healed.”

“I think it works for you though.” She leaned down and planted a shy kiss on his scar. “There, all better.” At the stunned look on his face she suddenly was self-conscious. “I’m sorry it’s just that…”

Her words were cut off as his hand cupped the back of her head. Effectively stopping her retreat so that he could capture her startled gasp with his hungry kiss. The white-hot desire that ripped through her body as a result of his impulsive move was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. As quickly as it began, he tore his mouth away. The air between them hummed with sexual tension and the sound of them breathing as if they’d both run for miles.

He swallowed, trying to find rational thought for a moment. “I…I’m s…”

“Maker! Cullen if you apologize, so help me I’ll…” She had no idea what sort of threat to make since his dark eyed gaze scrambled her brains. “Kiss me like that again.” She growled as she rolled onto her back, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and pulled him towards her.

It was the ferocity of her demand that managed to drain him of all logic in that moment. Instinct took over as he crawled after her, covering her body with his, giving in to her neediness with his own physical demands. She cried out his name a scant second before his mouth crashed into hers. The rasp of his shadowed beard thrilling her further as he sank his tongue into her. Passion and arousal drove their actions for several glorious minutes as his hot mouth somehow came in contact with her bare shoulder.

A groan ripped through him the moment she’d instinctively rocked her hips against him when he suddenly realized what they were doing. No clothes had been removed, exactly, though her night gown was missing the top two buttons, and was splayed open and dangerously close to giving him an unobstructed view of her breasts. Her bed covers were safely between their lower bodies. But there was no mistaking their actions for being anything far beyond the boundaries of propriety or innocent friendship. Not when her legs were spread and he was rock hard against her heat.

It took everything from within him to still his movements so that reason had a chance to reassert itself. More than a decade of need was clawing its way to the surface from within him and he was dangerously close to doing something that couldn’t be undone.

She stared up at him with confusion in her eyes. “Why did you stop? Don’t you want…”

_Was she kidding?_ He would have found the question funny had he not been so utterly frustrated in the moment. “I stopped because it’s the right thing to do, Len. And if you seriously need to ask the second question right now, then we both know why I’m right.”

**_Arl Teagan’s Study… 9 hours later_ **

“She shouldn’t have to pay the price for my stupidity.” Cullen ground out as Dorian let her into the room. Cullen never wanted to hit something harder than he did at that moment. Unfortunately the one who deserved it looked back at him in his shaving mirror every day.

It didn’t take a spy to figure out who the _she_ in this scenario was. All eyes were on her so suddenly that she had a sense of déjà vu. It was so daunting that she backed up a step, right into Dorian. 

“Why does everyone look like someone shot the family dog and is afraid to tell me?” She felt as though she’d walked into the middle of a thunderstorm, the air was so charged with tension.

“And I’d rather not have to insist, Cullen. You might have been born a commoner, but you can’t claim ignorance here.” Alistair sighed.

“Of course I’ll do the right thing! How could you even suggest otherwise.” He looked like he’s was going to be sick. “I should have…I’m so sorry Len.”

She had the feeling she’d started reading a story in the middle. “Cullen, you’re scaring me, what’s going on…”

The Tyrn took her hand. “Someone saw Cullen leaving your room early this morning.”

“Oh god…I’m sorry I know it looks bad but we really just fell asleep. I didn’t want to be alone and he was just being nice. Wait, he’s not in trouble is he?” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Don’t kick him out of the Inquisition. Cullen is truly an honorable man. I’m so sorry! Don’t be mad at him! If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I was…” Cullen cleared his throat shooting Eleanor a pointed look.

“No one is kicking Cullen out of the Inquisition.” The Tyrn patted her shoulder reassuringly. “No one is angry with either of you. Alright? We’re all well aware of Cullen’s merits.”

“Then why is…” All the blood drained from her face. This was right out of a Jane Austen story. “Maker’s Breath! You’re _forcing_ him to marry me!”


	6. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both explore the insecurities that come with not knowing whether they were the other’s first choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn’t it weird that these stories take on a life of their own? These Characters have surprised me a bit. And yes I’m breaking all of the things in the process and for that, I’m not even a little bit sorry. 
> 
> Love to all!

_**Max Trevelyn’s chambers...** _

It isn’t funny Cassandra.” Cullen frowned as someone was tucking, pinning and measuring a pair of breeches. He was trying not to flinch as the tailor came dangerously close to his manly bits. 

Cassandra shrugged, “Yes is. It will be a story to tell your children someday. When they’re grown of course. It’s romantic in a way.”  
  
“I fail to see how an arranged marriage is romantic.” Max shook his head only half bitterly by this point. “Don’t make them too tight. As dear as it would be to see our sweet little bride blush, we don’t want Cullen’s considerable… _arsenal_ on full display.”

Cullen coughed to hide his embarrassed chuckle and practically dared Cassandra to joke about that one with his glare.

“Too easy.” Cassandra shrugged, “This wasn’t exactly a conventional arranged marriage. And, Max, you seem a little too upset by this for this to be a mere opinion.”

“I volunteered to come to the talks to _escape_ an arranged marriage. Though the girl in question was husband hunting and I fell prey to the _do the honorable thing_ trap. I can only hope she thinks I’m dead.”

Cullen sighed, “I know there will be people claiming so, but Eleanor didn’t _trap_ me. ”

Max leaned back on the sofa and narrowed his eyes. “You seem sure of that. Not that I disagree with you. I’m a bit surprised you considered that.” 

“What would she have to gain by marrying me?” The former Templar shook his head. “The place she came from doesn’t think on those terms, or at least hadn’t in hundreds of years anyhow. If anything, it was my having let my… _assets_ as you put it, get me into trouble that trapped _her_ into marrying _me_. She could barely look at me at supper.”

“For a smart man, you can be so stupid sometimes.” Cassandra rolled her eyes, “Has it not occurred to you that she thinks you don’t want to marry her?”

“How could she possibly…”

Max slanted Cullen a look, “ _I’m_ terrible with women, Cullen, but even I caught that much. Her first reaction was about how _her_ behavior could be ruining _your_ life. And when she’d guessed correctly, what did she say?”

 _She should have said I’m an idiot for missing the obvious here._ He closed his eyes and shook his head in defeat. “She said, ‘You’re forcing him to marry me.’”

“Exactly, and instead of reassuring her, you immediately apologized instead.” Cassandra frowned.

“I told her everything was going to be alright.” Cullen added defensively.

“Which still didn’t give her what she needed from you. Did you once tell her that ultimately you did have a choice?” The light in Max’s eyes was a little too unsettling as a smile spread across the younger man’s face. 

“What? That you reluctantly offered? If you were so against arranged marriages in the first place I can’t fathom why you did that.” He frowned down at the tailor, “Watch where you’re going with those pins?”

“I’m not so reluctant as you wish to imagine.” Max met his Commander’s challenging look. “In fact, if I suspected that I was her first choice, I wouldn’t have been above fighting you for her.” 

“Really, it wasn’t even a little bit about getting back at Josephine for suggesting it in the first place? Her secret crush on you isn’t such a secret.” Cullen’s smug little sneer was brought on by the surprise in Max’s eyes. “I asked Leliana if you and I were going to have a problem going forward. She she explained that your response to Josephine regarding your offer to marry Lady Eleanor somehow conveniently left out the part where the resulting wedding the day after tomorrow wouldn’t be your own.”

“Point taken, Commander. I cannot claim to love her as you do. But, I’d have to be an utter fool not to be aware of her. And it seems even Dorian isn’t completely immune to compulsively wishing to protect her.” Max cast his gaze downward thoughtfully.

“Yes but I think Dorian knew he was safe in his guess that there was no way the King of Ferelden would consider marrying Eleanor to a Tevinter as a desirable solution, even with a flawlessly noble pedigree to recommend him.” Cassandra commented as she paced the room rather aimlessly. “And he did it to push Cullen’s buttons of course.”

**_Lady Eleanor’s Chambers...._ **

Dorian patted Eleanor’s knee. “You know, if you keep frowning like that, you’ll get wrinkles. We’re planning a wedding not a funeral.” Her weak smirk made him shake his head. “He didn’t actually put up much of a fuss. Not on his own behalf in any case. He was worried about you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I’ve spent more than half my life in love with him. We spent entire afternoons building castles in the sky.”

“What a funny little phrase.” Dorian was clearly delighted.

“Did you ever look up at the clouds and see shapes?”

“Of course. It’s like making something out of nothing.” The mage’s eyes roamed her face and shook his head ruefully when she worried her lip. “I’m half in love with you and you’re not even my type. You would not have any problems finding suitors. Cullen wouldn’t have been your only option. You have to know that. I suspect Max fancies you, actually.”

She didn’t believe Dorian for a moment but it was sweet of him to try to make her feel better. “What? He doesn’t even know me.” The girl rolled her eyes. “Besides, I haven’t missed how he looks at you.” 

Dorian wasn’t entirely able to hide his blush. “Well, my impeccable style cannot be entirely ignored you know.” It was disturbing how disarming this sweet-faced girl could be. And, so far as he knew, it was something that she didn’t have to work at. _Did Max truly…No, that was silly..not after the events of this afternoon surely._

The Tevinter cleared his throat before waving away his errant thoughts. “But you’re missing my point. Cullen knows he’s a lucky man. If these were normal circumstances, the chances of you two having a life together would be close to none. In this reality, you _are_ marrying someone below your station. I need you to see that for what it is Eleanor. You cannot allow yourself to remain oblivious to such things.” Dorian admonished gently. “Cullen is quite aware of it. _You_ see him as this larger than life hero. _He_ sees himself as less than you deserve.” The genuine surprise he observed in Lady Eleanor’s eyes was heartwarming.

“Mr. Impeccable style, I need your eyes over here.” Leliana was glancing between two dresses that a veritable team of servants held in front of her, all hand-selected (the servants not the dresses) and vetted by Leliana and Max after the recent turn in events. “Aedan made certain that his beloved niece was well furnished for several seasons. And they’re just unusual enough that she will be noticed. How some of this is unwrinkled is…” The Bard ran her fingers over the fine fabric and her eyes closed in pleasure. “I’m jealous.”

“You don’t have to be.” Eleanor rushed over to the trunk she’d opened with the things she’d needed readily available. She pulled open the false bottom and lifted out a few bolts of fabric and laid them on her bed. “These are for you.”

Leliana gasped as she moved over to run her hands over them. “My favorite colors…he remembered.”

“Would you believe I had to tell _him_ to keep it reasonable? Obviously not all of this is going to Haven with us.” Dorian was momentarily speechless. “Are you sure your Uncle is attracted to women? His taste in clothes rivals mine.”  
  
“Honestly, I think he wanted to impress Leliana. He can’t take all the credit. He hired someone since everything had to be custom-made so that they wouldn’t draw the wrong sort of attention. Uncle explained that for me to be seen as having spent my life in Orlais, it would have to be convincing and that the ‘raised by the Chantry’ part would need to be a legitimate cover story for an acceptable reason for the mystery behind it.” Leliana’s eyes held numerous questions she was either afraid to, or unwilling to ask. Eleanor wanted to be able to answer them and to give her the reassurance that it was clear that the Bard needed. But the younger woman understood the value of timing. “Also, he…spoiled me a bit.”

Dorian threw his head back and laughed. “Of course he did!” The mage turned back to the dresses. “Eleanor, which one do you like more?”

“How do I choose that? I like them both.” She crossed the room to where Dorian stood, finally showing interest in the process. Dorian took that as a good sign. “I want him to think I’m beautiful, maybe a little sexy.”

Dorian hissed with frustration. “I think the fact that he thinks you’re beautiful was made rather obvious by the love bites that you cleverly hid with your hair this morning.”

“I hate you.” Eleanor stiffened. “You know what I mean.”

Dorian shook his head, “Then neither of these...” He reached into the trunk and pulled out a third gown. “This one is perfect.”

It was delicate, elegant and the bodice was cut so that the neckline plunged nearly to the waistline. The only reason it didn’t look indecent on her was the fact that she was petite with almost non-existent breasts. Though that never seemed to bother Cullen... “Is it...”

“Shocking? A little, but only because _you’ll_ be wearing it and no one quite knows what to make of you and that innocent face of yours. But no, it isn’t unsuitable.” Dorian nudged her playfully. “Though I can’t promise that it will be wearable after the wedding night.”

Lady Eleanor’s answer was a nervous giggle as a knock at the door turned everyone’s attention. “I would just like to have a word with Lady Eleanor. I promise not to take too much of her time.”

Leliana appeared like a streak across the room and quickly shoved Cullen around the corner. “It’s bad luck to see the bride’s wedding dress before the wedding!” She admonished.

“Oh! Right!” Cullen agreed and then paused, “I mean…why would I know that? Please, I…it’s important.”

Eleanor could hear the amusement Leliana’s answer, “I’m under strict orders to not leave her alone with you.”

“Oh please I…Fine, I’ll bring her guard with us. Will that suffice?”

It was a quiet walk through the hallway as he took her to an upper floor door and led her up to the ramparts. The guard stayed a comfortable distance away. While Cullen seemed to be having a mental battle. But she knew that it was one of those moments that peppering him with questions wouldn’t be helpful. So she waited while he took a breath, cursed under his breath, took her hands in his and then got down on a knee in front of her. Her heart tripped over itself in her chest as the scene unfolded in front of her.

Though it wouldn’t quite go as she’d initially expected. “First, I need you to forgive me. I had a choice, Eleanor. And…I selfishly took yours away from you.”

It dawned on her that Cullen was unreasonably nervous. She shook her head, “I don’t understand.”

“ _I_ wasn’t your only option to marry. Max offered…And…I didn’t give you the option to consider him.” Her mouth fell open and for a moment, she simply couldn’t believe he was so anxious over that. “I don’t want there to be any doubt in your mind that the fact that I can physically be here with you is nothing short of my best dreams come true, literally. And if you would be happier with him I’d…”

That was her undoing. She couldn’t stop the tears over this big, strong soldier that by all rights should have moved on from her years ago. He could have had anyone and here he was on his knees, offering to let her go if that’s what she needed to be happy. “Cullen! Stop!” More like a sob than a plea she waited for him to look up at her. “Ask me.”

When Cullen looked momentarily confused, the guard’s lilting, Starkhaven brogue rolled out. “For Fuck’s Sake, Rutherford! Even from over here I can see that M’Lady wants you to ask her to marry you!”

Even Cullen found the humor in that as he shook his head over having lost his head for a moment. “Lady Eleanor Moira Cousland,” _Theirin,_ He silently added, recognizing what this would eventually mean for both of them and praying that Alistair’s faith in him would not be misplaced. “Will you marry me?”

Laughing and crying at the same time, she nodded, “Yes!”


	7. The Talk and The Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never let it be said that Fergus Cousland shirked his duty. And our dear Lady Eleanor gives our handsome hero his wedding gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blech! This one is dripping with so much fluff you could stuff a whole mattress with it. So I'm just as nervous about Len's corny but bold move in this chapter as she is.
> 
> Of course I totally used the Cranberries song because I have real life sentimental attachment to that song when I get gushy about my husband. So now you know. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. It's a longer chapter but trying to cut this one up wasn't working for me.

The King’s voice rang with impatience. “What do you mean she’s missing?” 

Dane couldn’t for the life of him account for how irritated the King was over the Tyrn’s missing daughter. But it made him irritable. “It means she’s somewhere and I don’t know where that is at the moment, your Majesty.” Dane frowned darkly. “Don’t look at me like I don’t know how to do my job. It’s not physically possible for me to guard her constantly. I assigned two guards to the door of her chamber overnight and and one for the morning while I was training with the Inquisition’s newer recruits. Cullen wasn’t kidding when he said that he needed help with those would-be soldiers, because most of them are little more than displaced farmers and craftsmen sick and tired of the Mage/Templar thing as the rest of us are.” 

Fergus put a calming hand on Alistair’s shoulder. “Dane was just doing his job. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for her whereabouts.” He only wished he felt as calm as he was pretending to be. He had one of those 'I'm going to punish you for scaring me like that by yelling first and hugging the crap out of you' moments building up in the blinds. 

Alistair’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right. This will be so much easier when Cullen’s sleeping with her.” 

Cullen, who had just entered the hall paused and blinked at the king. “I beg your pardon?” 

Alistair cringed and shook his head. “I wasn’t implying…I mean when you share a room.” 

“Dare I ask _what_ will be easier?” 

Fergus, who had a knack for surprising people by occasionally dropping some of his signature dry wit, shook his head feigning disappointment. “Did you never have _the talk?”_

“You know, Fergus, I _have_ punched your brother. I have no qualms about doing the same to you.” Alistair’s eyes narrowed knowing that barb was equally meant for him as it was Cullen. 

Cullen groaned, “Seriously, _why_ are we on this subject in the first place?" 

Dane, who was somewhat indignant about the derailment considering the issue at hand bluntly said, “M’Lady’s whereabouts is currently unknown. In case that still mattered considering I was getting blistered for it.” 

Cullen looked baffled. “She’s outside just past the gates. I came in, at her request, to suggest that we have lunch out there since it’s so nice.” 

“That would have been nice if that guard this morning could have told me that.” Dane snapped irritably. 

Cullen blinked. It seemed that no one that spent any time with his bride was resistant to becoming overprotective of her. “He’d have a difficult go of that, he’s mute. But he knew, I made sure to let him know that she would be with Leliana and me.” Cullen patted Alistair on the shoulder to get his attention. “You know, while we’re on the subject of _the talk…_ ” 

Alistair gave Cullen a warning look. “We weren’t.” 

Cullen held his friend’s gaze and lead in slowly. “But we want an heir and it’s normally the bride’s mother’s job to…” 

Alistair coughed to hide his amusement at where this was going. “Right! And since her mother is unavailable, her _father_ needs to see the job done.” 

"Tell me you're joking." Fergus paled. “You want _me_ to discuss the bride’s role in wedding night activities with the bride?” When Cullen and Alistair didn’t comment, he sighed. “I hate both of you.” 

When Fergus joined Dane on the way outside Alistair paused, “Does she _really_ not know?” 

Cullen took a moment to choose his words carefully. “Yes and no. She isn’t clueless. Apparently modern educations in that other world include _that subject_ , at least on a more scientific level, so that fewer unwed women end up pregnant. They are also taught more about their own bodies, both boys and girls, so that the act itself is more enjoyable. I have to admit, I was much younger when she told me that, and I was shocked by such talk then.” Cullen paused to let Alistair process that. He knew how he currently felt about that and was curious as to his friend’s reaction to the information when brought up in the proper context. 

Alistair nodded, “That’s interesting. I can see merit in taking some of the mystery away. Nothing is more delicious than forbidden fruit and all.” 

“Exactly. Also, you should know Aeden did his job well, Alistair. Specific values and beliefs were still left up to the parents. And since _you_ couldn’t be there, he raised her they way he thought you would want her to be raised. She was quite firm with me that she wanted to wait until marriage, or at least wait until she was with someone she loved and who loved her in return. Ultimately she explained that if I was too afraid to even discuss it with her, we were not ready.” 

This was dangerous territory, discussing such things about a man’s daughter. But that man also happened to be his second oldest friend where conversations like that were not totally out of line. In the end, he felt he owed it to Alistair to allow him to truly know his daughter as much as he could before she was to become another man’s wife. And the truth was, that there was so much about Eleanor that only he would know. The only one who would know more was Aedan. As nervous as this topic made him, he took a page from Eleanor’s book and didn’t fill the silence with words. There was a lot of wisdom in knowing when not to speak and simply wait for someone’s answer. Perhaps that was why the current age gap between them, while significant, didn’t seem to be a problem. 

Cullen didn’t know why he didn’t notice before, but when Alistair’s eyes were staring back at him, he realized the daughter’s were a close match. So expressive, they spoke volumes without uttering a single word. And if you weren’t expecting it, it was a bit startling. There was a vulnerability there that not many were privy to around Alistair since he became King. Alistair's voice confirmed what his eyes had implied when he said, “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that. You’ve seen my choices, and some of them were calculated risks that I couldn't allow myself to get too emotionally involved with in at that time. The day that Eleanor learns the whole truth...I can’t say I’m looking forward to that. None of this has been easy. And my ability to know that my trust in the Maker and the people I care about is not misplaced makes the sacrifices I’ve made even more worth it.” 

Cullen hadn’t thought about what will happen when Len learns everything, and he chose not to. It was too much to worry about when there was already too much to worry about. 

Alistair wouldn’t be Alistair without easing tension with humor. As a grin flashed across the man’s face Cullen was bracing himself for whatever punchline was to come. “So, do you think she’ll play along?” 

Cullen didn’t have to ask him what he was talking about. He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling over an image that materialized in his mind. “Oh, I would lay money on it.” 

“We are terrible people.” Alistair shook his head as they joined everyone outside. 

Eleanor was in her element as she and Leliana were seated on a blanket, surrounded by about a dozen children and a smattering of parents who were, she would guess, castle staff. There was a lot of giggling and dancing from the children. And they even convinced them to sing along. Dorian and Max were the first of their “party” to join them. And then the others followed. Cullen, looking fresh from having cleaned up after training. Her heart did a little flip flop in her chest.

“But what does _Obladi_ _Oblada_ mean? It sounds like nonsense.” A particularly precocious little boy who didn’t look like he was too sure he wanted to join in had just said that. Several of the children nodded in agreement. 

“Sometimes when people talk, they use sounds or use a mash up of words, right? It’s not the King’s tongue. But most people still know what it means. It’s called a colloquialism.” The boy still looked a little lost so she grasped for something that might be relevant here. “Like…when someone says they ‘don’t have a pot to piss in ‘ do they mean literally?” 

That was met with a sea of giggles. Amused, Cullen chuckled and facepalmed. The boy was no different and was happy to answer. “My Da says that one!” There was another sea of giggles around them. “Mum says if she hears me saying such, she’ll blister my bum.” 

Len guessed who his Da was right away, as he was several shades of red. "Well I'd best mind my mouth then because my Da is over there." Eleanor made a point to look nervous for the boy's benefit, but it didn't hide her amusement from the other adults around her. Fergus played along and wagged a finger at her with a chuckle.

  
Turning her attention back to the boy she continued. “So, Leliana will sing the part you’re supposed to sing with you, the Chorus, and I’ll do the verses. And maybe once you hear the song, you’ll be able to guess what Obladi Oblada might mean?” The boy, now less reluctant because he clearly liked Eleanor, agreed that he would try. 

Leliana hadn’t had this much fun in ages. Eleanor had the most unusual singing voice. It was rich, powerful, with an edge to it and was almost a full register lower than her own. The older woman supposed that her dusky speaking voice had something to do with it. The lighthearted tune with the infectious hook soon had people clapping along with the beat. 

As people were laughing and clapping at the end, a toddler ran up and plunked herself down in Eleanor’s lap. The combination of her white blonde curls that tumbled around her rosy little face was irresistible as Len smiled at her, “Well hello!” She was so little she seemed more like a doll than a real-life child. 

A panic-stricken mother called out to the child. “Kara! We mustn’t interrupt M’lady Cousland! You’ll get your dirty hands all over her nice dress! I’m so sorry!” 

Len thought the mother’s reaction was a little bit extreme, but that just might be another one of her fish out of water moments. She flashed a warm smile at the mother, “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” This seemed to surprise everyone, some to the point of mild shock. Some let out breaths of relief. And it wasn’t like the little girl was filthy. She’d just been playing like a normal child. She chalked it up to them not knowing she loved children. She supposed some fussy ladies might not be so receptive. 

“M’lady...” The boy from before seemed excited to share his newfound wisdom as he bounced up and down. “I think I know what the song means. It’s about regular people doing regular things and not worrying about stuff. So, those words, the _colkwheelism_ _?”_ Len was impressed that the boy remembered that word and nodded encouragingly so that he would continue. “It was like they were saying _La dee da!_ I didn’t know they made songs about regular folks who don’t do nothing fancy like an Arl or M’lady does.” 

Oh, she loved this kid! He was brilliant. And she could tell he made his Da proud. She leaned forward and smiled, “What if I told you that I think what makes Ferelden so great is about all of the things regular people do put together? And the true job of a Noble is to make sure that people are good to each other, and are safe and secure and looked after so that regular people could continue to keep making Ferelden so great and not worry?” 

His mouth dropped open. “So, we’re important even if we’re not fancy and important?” 

“You absolutely are! Think about how many regular people there are compared to people who feel fancy and important?” 

Everyone fell silent. Eleanor leaned over to whisper to Leliana, “Why is everyone looking at me as if I just farted in Chur...I mean the Chantry?” 

If she hadn’t already loved this girl, she certainly did now. The fact that she was so clueless about the goodness she spread without even trying spoke volumes about her. _And was absolutely the way Aedan was._ Leliana glanced over at their friends and shrugged as she smiled. “I think maybe they’re waiting for another song. Perhaps we do the one that you and I practiced earlier? He’s right there listening.” 

Eleanor had never been able to giggle and blush about a boy to anyone when other girls did. To be able to do it now with Leliana was delicious fun. But now she was panicking inside like some little fangirl of the big handsome Commander of the Inquisition. What was that about? _And he's marrying me tomorrow! Squeeeee! OMG...OMG...OMG! I can't do this! He's going to think I'm a dumb little fangirl!_

Leliana shook her head at her. “Why are you suddenly so shy? And before you ask, it’s written all over your face.” The older woman gently reminded her. “You said yourself that you would sing this one all the time when you missed him so much. I doubt you’ll mess up the words.” 

“Never _to_ him. I’ve never sung a love song to anyone! He’s going to think it’s corny.” 

“Maybe, but I think it’s so dear that you have a song just for him.” Leliana slanted her a look. “It’s a beautiful song.” 

“It’s not like I wrote it.”Panic was getting the better of Eleanor. 

“Does that really matter? If you don’t do this, you’ll be kicking yourself. I can see that in you too." 

“Fine. Let’s just get this over with before I can change my mind.” To calm herself she began to finger through the chords. She really did know this song like she knew how to spell her own name. So, if she was going to make a fool of herself, it won’t be because she did the song badly. She’d pictured this moment for three long years thinking she'd never have the opportunity to tell him exactly how she felt about him. _Tomorrow is never promised..._ That’s when she looked around her. She _literally_ pictured this moment so many times almost exactly. The breeze on her face, Cullen and her father chatting, though in the place of her father was the King and her father was on the other side. But down to the child sitting on her lap, contenting herself with playing with Cullen’s ring while sucking her thumb. She somehow knew that if she ran her fingers through the little girl’s hair, she would discover that she was an elf.

Meanwhile, Cullen was curious about whatever debate was going on over there between Leliana and Len. The way Leliana kept looking in his direction as she spoke made him simultaneously curious and nervous in the way it always made him nervous when girls giggled and blushed trying to gain his attention. And when it was clear Leliana won whatever argument took place because Len started playing something with a look on her face that screamed _fuck my life_. The fact that he could almost hear her voice when he thought those words made him smile back at Leliana. 

Then Leliana smiled sweetly at him with a sly wink and leaned her head over at his bride while touching her ear. 

Alistair’s rumbling chuckle was felt more than heard. “I think Leliana is trying to tell you that you’re about to be serenaded oh _Sir Knight in Shining Armor_. And judging by how nervous Eleanor looks, you have to tell her you liked it no matter what.” 

“Thank you, I might have missed the obvious there.” Cullen said flatly as he felt his ears turn red. He had to stop himself from rubbing the back of his neck as he did when he was a little uncomfortable. He didn't love being the center of attention but didn't want Len to second guess herself more than he knew she was. And he had a feeling that was going to be what happened in this case, at least among his friends. “You knighted me just so you could torture me, didn’t you?” 

“The thought _never_ even crossed my mind.” Alistair’s smug look said it all. 

_Oh, my life_   
_Is changing everyday_   
_In every possible way_

_And oh, my dreams_   
_It's never quite as it seems_   
_Never quite as it seems_   


At first, just the way her voice rang out had his undivided attention. The sound filled the air around them and the impact of it was potent. His emotional response to that alone was so strong that he almost missed her words. And judging by the response of the people around him, he wasn’t the only one effected. What about this made her so shy? 

_I know I felt like this before_   
_But now I'm feeling it even more_   
_Because it came from you_   
  
_Then I open up and see_   
_The person falling here is me_   
_A different way to be_

When Leliana added her voice and harmony to the song drew his attention back to the words. They've rehearsed this. Which means this took planning. The sentiment there was so damn sweet and romantic, he could see being nervous about expressing something like that in such a public way. He wasn’t sure he’d have the courage to do it. That alone made the moment special, even if she hadn’t been so talented. 

_I want more_   
_Impossible to ignore_   
_Impossible to ignore_   
  
_And they'll come true_   
_Impossible not to do_   
_Impossible not to do_

He didn't know how any man could feel anything but honored buy the sentiment behind this. He wasn't prepared for what came next. He had no idea that a song could reach inside him and leave him so raw until the next stanza. She gave that song everything she had in her. And it was the most beautiful thing to witness. To have this sung to him? He didn't know what he ever did to deserve this woman but he would spend the rest of his life thanking the Maker for her. 

  
_And now I tell you openly_   
_You have my heart so don't hurt me_   
_You're what I couldn't find_   
  
_A totally amazing mind_   
_So understanding and so kind_   
_You're everything to me_   
  


Staggered...Cullen was staggered by this. Her eyes were on him and she meant every single word. Was love like this for everyone? Because the impact of knowing that she was surrendering everything to him aware that he could wound her in the cruelest way possible was like taking punch to the gut. Had she felt this for him _all along_? The truth was that he’d felt only half alive for the years that he’d spent denying that she’d ever even existed as if she’d meant nothing to him.

In fact the demons made certain that he gave her those exact words. _You never meant anything to me. You are_ _nothing but a_ _dream to me that I had as a naive little boy who had no idea how life really worked._

It had been like watching everything beautiful in his life and in the world around him die in that moment, because how could anyone love him after something like that? The demons in his dreams made sure he knew it. And yet she was here, loving the man she knew he wanted to be for her so many years ago. Echoing the very words that he’d hurt her with, making them something beautiful again. 

_And oh, my dreams_

_It's never quite as it seems_

_'Cause you're a dream to me_

_Dream to me_

The thought of losing her again was paralyzing. He thought of Fergus, and what he’d lost through no fault of his own. Fergus was a good man, of all people, he hadn’t earned the pain he had to endure. That was the risk of course, that he might not have a choice in the matter, because that’s how life was. Pushing her away again was not an option under any circumstances. He understood the strength it took for her to love him. Because she never once said she required him to love her back. She’d just managed to show him what he had failed to show her. Dammit, he hadn’t so much as given her the words, ever. 

He didn’t know how he was going to do it. But he would find a way to show her how much he loved her. He would be the man she needed him to be, or he would die trying. 


	8. Beauty Versus the Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor is more than she seems, in many ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. Back to school virtually is sucking my time from me. Meanwhile I'm trying to add in some art. Cheers!

Eleanor had the privilege of being a bridesmaid in one wedding shortly before she fell ill. It was for a member of a band she’d been in when Uncle Aedan’s duty station was in Washington DC, the last place on Earth, or Dirt as Dorian has continued to call it much to her great amusement, she would ever live. The morning of the wedding was lovely and full of pampering and girl talk. And after the engagement party where it was a chance to make an official recognition of her place among some of the Fereldan Nobility as the daughter of a Tyrn, she was in no mood to repeat it. She just wanted permission to be alone in a room with Cullen again. It was too late to elope.

Eleanor was climbing the walls. The last thing she wanted was a pampered-lady-fest this morning and she needed some sort of distraction. She envied Cullen when she was informed that he was training with the soldiers even on this day of all days. A fish out of water, it was like the walls were closing in on her and she desperately needed to let off some steam. That was when she announced that she was going to go out and teach the castle’s children how to play Capture the Flag. In fact, when she described the game to her father, Uncle Alistair and Dorian at breakfast, they were immediately interested in joining in the fun. Dane brought a small group of guards just for a precaution.

The game itself was a point of amusement for several onlookers. Alistair was able to help her find a freshly mowed field just a short distance away from the castle gardens. The children were immediately excited that Lady Cousland was out to play with them. They stood with their mouths open like eager goldfish when the King joined them. The adults divided themselves between the two teams equally and made sure that the children caught them easily. However, there were moments when all bets were off between the adults.

Eleanor might have been small, but surprised them with how athletic, quick and agile she was with a competitive streak that rivaled only one other out on that field. And, that was the King himself. The moment when she streaked between Dorian and Alistair, ducking and rolling before springing up onto her feet to evade capture, Dane let out cheer in his booming voice. “Andraste’s Knickers! Look at M’Lady go!” Joined by hoots and hollers of similar appreciation from the other guards.

Though the children _miraculously_ caught up to her and dove at her before she got past the line into their team’s territory, piling onto her with a series of giggles and cheers.

“You’re all sorts of impressive, aren’t you?” The King approached, his face lit up with joy as he offered her a hand up. She was laughing as he tugged on her braid affectionately. The braid was quickly losing its fight against the will of her massive blanket of dark hair as pieces slipped free and swung playfully around her rosy face. How was it that he could have so much pride in a child that he barely met? It was difficult not to see that she was an incredible young woman. “People aren’t going to know how to take you, you know. With dirt on your nose and grass in your hair.”

“Maybe I like the M’Lady stuff about as much as you like the King stuff?” Her dimple winked up at him.

Fergus observed the exchange and noted how similar their smiles lit up their dark eyes in that moment. Alistair’s gaze found his and there was a lot of unspoken understanding between the men.

Pausing, she thought Alistair was still tugging on her braid as the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She lost her smile as a wave of something like anxiety rolled over her threatening to crush her with its weight. “Something’s...wrong.” She murmured to no one in particular as she had a difficult time focusing over the tension in the air.

Dorian’s gaze cut to hers, brows high, before he concentrated and was easily able to sense what she was. The thing that surprised the mage was that _she_ was sensing it. There was a sort of buzzing-static-like feeling in the atmosphere, and something akin to a pressure change like at the beginning of a storm when the sky is about to open to curtains of rain. That wouldn’t make sense on the cloudless day. That meant only one thing, a fade rift was about to open right there.

Dorian’s voice held a note of urgency as he called out, “Your Majesty, we need Max straight away!”

Alistair, still the Templar and Gray Warden, understood the subtext in Dorian’s words. He began to bark orders unable to allow himself to look directly at Eleanor. _Losing her would end me..._ Two guards, younger and faster, handed over their weapons and shields to Fergus and Alistair before they dashed off to the Castle at top speed, calling to the guards in the distance to raise the alarm. That's when there was a deafening rending noise as if the hull of the Titanic were being ripped open by an iceberg. Green light appeared as the veil ripped open.

“Holy hell!” Eleanor turned to Sir Dane as green miasma like flashes sparked in the ground around them surrounding them. The sea of little faces between them frozen in fear. She bent down and firmly said, “Look at me. The soldiers will keep you safe, stay together. If you run, you’ll attract attention to yourselves. It’s hungry for your fear. Hold hands close your and speak The Chant of Light together. Can you do that for me? Do not stop until I tell you to no matter what happens.”

Dane couldn’t have been prouder of Lady Cousland than he was at that moment. She knew they would trust her, and he would make use of that. Ordering the four other guards to surround her and the group of children he told them to protect them with their lives. Eleanor was not going to stand there and not make the demons work for their victory if it came down to it. It was easy for her to steal one of the soldier’s daggers.

Handling it, she was momentarily shocked by how big a dagger actually was. Somewhere on the edge of her awareness she heard Alistair yell at Dorian to stay out of range of his smite. _Smiting was a thing?_ That was the last coherent thought she would have for a while as another cracking sound happened as the rift opened like a literal doorway to hell. She cried out and doubled over in response as it felt as if someone or something had ripped a hole through her. 

And that was the first time she heard the song.

Two soldiers who were unarmed and out of breath burst into the main Hall. Max was already rushing out the front door with Cassandra, Cullen and Max at his side. His hand felt like someone had poured liquid fire onto it.

“Your Grace, Herald! Sir Cullen! You need to come quickly. The King, Lady Cousland and children!”

Cullen could hear the cries across the field, and he took off in a flat run for the source.

_Sword-shattering fear filled me overflowing._   
_Grandeur of godhood no gaze should defile._   
_Trembling, I called out: "Forgive me, Most High,_   
_I should sing Your Name to the heights of heaven,_   
_But I know it not, and must be silent."_   
_The Wellspring of All said, "None now remember._   
_Long have they turned to idols and tales_   
_Away from My Light, in darkness unbroken_   
_The last of My children, shrouded in night."_

When they arrived on the scene those words were coming from the children, who held hands and had their eyes squeezed shut against the horror around them. Soldiers around them were busy fighting off smaller demons while Alistair was doing his best to disarm their magic. Dorian and Fergus worked against the unrelenting attacks.

Cullen was searching for Len when he realized that she was standing between the group of children behind Sir Dane who was fighting a Greater Terror. When her guard fell Len let out a cry of rage as, to his horror, she charged at the demon. It was then that Cullen was certain he was about watch Eleanor die and there was literally no way he could prevent it. No one counted on what would happen next.

The nightmare towered over her as its spindly arm reached for Sir Dane to finish him off. Len interposed herself between it and him. The demon opened its horrifying maw and split the air around them with a scream that shook the ground.

She didn’t so much as flinch, “Why don’t you go fuck yourself you overgrown stick bug!” She roared back, “You aren’t welcome here and I will not let you have him.”

_What is it? Why is it not afraid?_

She sensed the confusion in her mind as well as the cacophony of music clashing in the air around her. There was a pattern in it, and something inside of her gave her the words to the song that would weave it all together. And it was beautiful. The Nightmare froze and retreated a step, then a second.

_What is it? Why isn't it afraid? Make it stop!_

The Nightmare hammered at her mind trying to break through. It screamed again, trying to disrupt her concentration, trying to figure out what she was.

Cullen cried out when the Nightmare plucked her from the ground and shook her, trying to get her to stop. That was when she drew the dagger across her outer thigh, cutting her leggings and drawing blood before spinning it in her hand to raise it above her head and with both hands plunged it into the demon’s skull.


	9. Dying in Slow Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear lingers with our heroes in the face of an uncertain future.

“ _Cullen cried out when the Nightmare plucked her from the ground and shook her, trying to get her to stop. That was when she drew the dagger across her outer thigh, cutting her leggings and drawing blood before spinning it in her hand to raise it above her head and with both hands plunged it into the demon’s skull_.”

  
Eleanor was dying in slow motion. The talons of this thing that had plucked her from the ground were like a vice grip around her body. _So, this is what a tube of toothpaste feels like._ The injuries Dane experienced were nothing compared to what was about to happen to her. He was wearing armor whereas she had little doubt that she would be pinched in half. 

Her life depended on her next move and for some reason, it felt as if she had all the time in the world to make her decision to act. Aware that she didn't actually have the luxury of taking the time to understand why it was logical for her to draw her own blood. She made the cut before she lost her nerve to cover her blade with it before using everything she had left in her to force that blade into the Nightmare’s head. There was an explosion that she was sure rocked the heavens and then a sudden vacuum that forced her to let go of her blade. 

_“I swear unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste to love this woman the rest of my days."_

That was Cullen’s voice echoing wherever it was she was falling to.

_An uncertain future. As you have faced your fears and triumphed, they must do so as well._

Then chaos, darkness, she was falling for what felt like a year. Why was everyone screaming? The blackness pulled her under.

Cullen caught Eleanor and a combination the force of the impact and his adrenaline leaving him brought him to his knees. “Len! Maker! Max! Dorian!” 

Max pulled his hand closed and jerked his arm back as if to pull the threads of the veil tightly shut. It was an action he’d performed so many times that it was little more than a reflex. Cullen’s uncharacteristic panic punched a hole in the hazy aftermath of the short yet heated battle. He became aware of everything that had transpired on the battlefield as if someone planted their own view of things from the outside looking in.

 _She’s dying. I need her._

Max blinked and turned to where Cullen was. There were only two casualties in the battle but only one of them didn't have the advantage of time. He didn’t look at Dorian when he shouted, “See to Sir Dane, I think I need to be the one to take care of Eleanor.” 

“Good luck getting all of them to give you room to work. Cassandra’s getting supplies and will be back soon.” Dorian knelt beside Dane as Max turned to face the group of men surrounding Eleanor. 

“Alright! I need room.” Max’s booming voice brooked no argument as he shoved past the King and the Tyrn to get a better look. As far as he could tell, the thigh wound was superficial. The blood that was seeping through her tunic and pooling around her was the thing that needed attention immediately. His own blood turned to ice inside of him. Max's voice came out on a shiver. “I need someone’s dagger.” 

He didn’t bother to look up to see who’s it was when he used it to cut through the lacing at the top and slice it the rest of the way down. 

“Cullen, what's happening? I can't feel my legs.” Eleanor’s dusky voice was so weak it terrified the Mage. When she coughed and blood emerged he was fighting his own panic. 

Cullen leaned down, inches from her face, gripping one hand while his other cupped the side of her face. “Shhh...Max is just having a look at you. You keep your eyes on me, it’s going to be okay.” 

Max couldn’t be sure who Cullen was trying to convince with his words. Was it himself, Eleanor or him? He took momentary comfort in the conviction in the Templar’s voice. Something Max desperately needed for the first time months.

_You’ll find all the time you need if you keep looking._

Since the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Max had witnessed a lot of horrifying things in his lifetime. But this one thing cut him to the core in emotional agony alone. The exchange between the two tragically doomed lovers threatened to undermine his ability to work. Fear of what failure would mean threatened to overtake him. He needed to concentrate if Eleanor were to have some sort of chance. Unless he could figure out a way to do the impossible, there was no happy ending here. 

_Then find it._

Was it the Maker that was speaking to him? If it was, he had some explaining to do. _Maker! You have one bloody chance to prove you exist! If you let this woman die, I will convince the whole of Thedas that you’re a fraud!_ Max rolled his eyes inside his mind. Threatening the Maker wasn’t going to help him now as he tried to figure out where to begin. Eleanor was nearly cut in half! How does magic fix that?

_Everyone's afraid of something. However your fear will doom Thedas._

“Your Majesty?” The Mage’s troubled eyes found those of the father that sacrificed his whole life for Thedas. 

Alistair’s expression was unreadable. But he nodded to let Max know he understood. He didn’t have the luxury of falling apart right now. “How long?” 

Max would give anything to not have this woman’s life in his hands. “Don't make me answer that.”

Alistair processed the words, Max’s tone and the potential fallout. He turned to his friend, the Tyrn who would have his heart broken again knowing there would be no wedding that night.

Fergus's response was quiet. “I’ll fetch Mother Agnes.”

Cullen accepted the healing potion from Cassandra as Max softly said, “Get as much into her as fast as possible without drowning her.” Cullen nodded woodenly, his only indication of acknowledgement of Max’s unspoken words that accompanied his directions.

Gently lifting Eleanor’s head in his hand he explained, “Drink this, love. It will make you feel better.” Cullen forced himself to remain oblivious to everything else but helping Len. No explanation was needed of the likelihood that giving her the potion might do little more than to make the last minutes of her life less painful. And if he could help her die peacefully, he prayed it would be less painful for him. Anything more than that was up to the Maker, and magic. 

After the first sip, the pain seemed to ease enough that she was no longer in shock. Her clear, dark eyes found his filling with tears. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to leave you.” 

Knowing that she was aware she was dying nearly broke him. “Shh, you’re still with me. Just keep your eyes on me.” Cullen swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “It’s going to be okay. Let’s have little more of this.” 

When she took another sip, she winced as she swallowed. “Promise me you’ll be okay.”

He would never be okay again. But he didn’t need her to worry about him. “I’ll promise you anything, you know that.” Cullen tenderly kissed her forehead. 

A weak smile played at her lips, miraculously her eyes danced with mischief. “You don’t have to crap yourself for me. In fact, if you ever did, it’s okay if you didn’t tell me.”

Cullen was shocked by the chuckle that forced itself out of him. Leave it to this woman to make him laugh at a time such as this. “Dammit, you’re as bad as your father for the timing of your humor.” He gave her more of the potion. She was able to take more that time, but he was afraid to hope. 

Her voice was a little stronger still. “You love that about me.” 

“I love _you._ ” The fact that the words felt natural shamed him for taking so long to say them. When her eyes welled again, he rested his forehead against hers. “I should have said it long before now.”

“It’s alright. I knew. I love you so much.” Her voice trembled and she swallowed a sob. “I wanted so desperately to be your wife.”

“Good, because we’re getting married right now.” Cullen glanced up at Mother Agnes. 

“Does the bride agree?” The Priest’s grim face didn’t completely hide the effect the scene before her had on her own emotions.

“You don’t have to…I look terrible.” Eleanor shook her head. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ll ever know especially right now. Five minutes of having you as my wife is more than I had hoped for myself just a week ago. I was afraid of love. And now I know that any amount is a beautiful gift.” Cullen’s amber eyes were bright with passion. “Please, Len. I beg you. It would be nothing short of the highest honor to be your husband for as long as the Maker allows me to be.”

“Okay…” Eleanor smiled through the tears streaming down her cheeks. “The bride agrees.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this chapter 3 times in the past 24 hours. When I was inconsolable, I knew it was ready. The next one is coming shortly. I promise.


	10. A Wedding Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unusual circumstances suits our bedraggled heroes just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for the kudos and little notes. I just hope people are enjoying themselves. This is a short one but I didn’t want to leave it hanging where I did for too long.

"I swear unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste to love this man the rest of my days." The sleepy murmur made the crowd of people in Eleanor’s chambers chuckle and smile. 

“Easy for her to say while she wasn’t sure she had more than minutes to fulfill that vow.” Max thrust his hands through his hair, looking bedraggled. “I bet you didn’t picture this as your Wedding night.” 

The groom was dressed comfortably and lounging against pillows with his sleeping bride settled against him in the crook of his arm. She’d been bathed and dressed in a fresh nightgown and tucked under the covers bearing no signs of the hellishness they’d witnessed earlier that day. Cullen glanced down at her and drew a shaky breath. “I think I died a thousand times back there. There’s no way I’d rather spend it considering the alternative.”

“Well,” Dane shook his head. “I swear to the Maker that I’ll positivity strangle yer wee wife if she tries something like tha’ again.” 

Alistair’s humorless chuckle preceded his comment. “You’ll have to wait your turn, Sir Dane.” 

Dorian raised his wine glass, “I’ll just settle for getting pissed thank you very much. But we really must consider what happened, beyond the fact that Max saved Eleanor’s life of course.”

The fact that Max wasn’t entirely sure he was responsible for saving her life today made him uncomfortable. But he thought it was best that he kept that information to himself for another time when he had some answers to give. Grabbing the glass from Dorian he quipped, “Perhaps you should wait to get pissed until this discussion is over then. Thanks for the wine by the way.” He eyed Dorian over the edge of the glass before draining it of its contents. 

“Spoil sport. Fine. She can…for lack of a better word…hear magical energy of any kind, including fade rift magic, Templar powers and Spirit magic.” Dorian paced the room. “She can also feel people around her when she has a mind to do so, especially you, Cullen.”

“There’ll be no getting anything past her then.” Cullen chuckled, having long since accepted the fact that Eleanor was extraordinary in ways he had yet to comprehend.

Alistair glanced down at his daughter. “She sensed the weakening of the Veil before Dorian and I could. But she has no mana and can’t wield magic. And her physical body is her own.”

“I felt the Nightmare’s confusion and fear.” Cullen shrugged. 

“She also drew her own blood to kill it. It was a deliberate action but not premeditated.” Max frowned. “I’m not sure why that worked or how she knew to do it. But again, not blood magic, because…still not a mage.”

“Not unless there’s some sort of incantation that starts with ‘Go fuck yourself’ that I don’t know about.” Dorian’s bombastic quip sent a wave of chuckles through then. “Who knew our little halla had such a filthy mouth.”

Dane handed Dorian another full glass of wine before drinking straight from the bottle. “I did.” His grin spread across his face. “After all, her nickname for me was Sir Cockblock.”

“Was it now?” Dorian’s eyes widened with delight. “Our dashing Commander might want to get plenty of rest before she’s healed up then.” The mage and Sir Dane congratulated each other for making Cullen blush and Alistair groan by clinking their respective wine receptacles together. 

Cullen let his head fall back against the headboard. He was unflappable now though he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully get over how close to death Eleanor was. Max had admitted to him that he didn’t understand how she survived that but. She’d passed out quickly after they were officially married. And there were several times they’d thought they’d lost her.

Leliana put up a hand halting any confidential discussion 30 seconds before there was a knock at the door. Hannah entered shyly, taken aback by the number of important people in her mistresses' room. “Sorry to interrupt the Wedding reception.” She smiled shyly. Kara was cuddled tightly into her neck. “The children would like to know that their Lady Cousland...” She stopped as she found Cullen’s watching her. A little boy smile crept across his face. “...pardon, Lady Rutherford...” Hannah thought it was dear how the big strong man blushed over his sweet little bride. “Several have refused to go to bed until they can see her.” She glanced at her daughter with a half-smile over that. “Including this little angel.” 

Alistair poked his head out the door, “Come on. I promise we’re taking good care of her.” He was eager to welcome them since the presence of the children would halt any discussion about his best friend and his daughter’s potential sex life. He wondered if that would ever not be weird.

The precocious little boy from the previous day’ name was Owen and was the blacksmith’s grandson. Owen, sheepishly held a massive bundle of wildflowers in his hands. His manners were notable as he bowed to his King. Alistair barely avoided rolling his eyes over the action offering the kid a pat on the shoulder. Lowering his head in respect to Cullen before he spoke, he asked, “She’s going to wake up, right?”

Cullen smiled, “Thank the Maker, yes. She’s just needing a lot of sleep to regain her strength.” Sensing the boy’s hesitation and the worry on his little face, he nodded down at the flowers, “Are those for her?”

Another girl spoke up. “Yes, Sir! Lady Eleanor didn’t have flowers for her marrying you. We thought we could give her some for when she was better.” Another maid produced a vase with water and accepted the bundle from the boy. There was a little bit of commotion and lots of congratulations offered as parents collected their children. A few of the parents paused to express their gratitude for her willingness to literally die protecting their children even offering to stay with her if Cullen needed a break.

The exception was Kara who struggled out of her mother’s arms and bounded over to the side of the bed to pick up a small spray of Andraste’s Grace that had escaped the bouquet. Eyeing Eleanor, she furrowed her brow and offered the flowers to Cullen. “Flowers hair?”

Cullen smiled gently, “You’re right. I think she should have flowers in her hair.” He tried to accept them, and she stepped back shaking her head. 

“Kara do it.”

“Oh no sweetie, just let Sir Rutherford do it.” Hannah was alarmed by her daughter’s cheek. “She’s not usually so bold Sir.”

“Please, Hannah, you know Eleanor wouldn’t object.” Cullen’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his gaze fell on Kara. Patting the bed right next to his wife he said, “Come on up.”

She clambered up the steps to the tall bed and slowed in a very un-toddler like fashion as she somehow understood that she needed to be careful. She took care to gently tuck the spray of flowers behind her ear before she smiled eagerly up at Cullen. “Lady ouch?”

“That’s right. Big ouch.”

Kara leaned down and gingerly kissed Eleanor’s cheek. “All better?” Sure enough, Eleanor’s face had relaxed into a soft smile.

Cullen observed the little elf for a moment. He’d sensed the tiny little shift within her and around her, and a couple of things came to mind. The first was that he would thank The Maker every single day for the rest of his life for the existence of magic. The second was that he wondered if Hannah had any idea that Kara was a mage. “Thanks to you, I think so, Little One.” 


End file.
